
Class Z . ' 
Book_i 



COFmiGHT DEPOSm 



THE 



TEACHER'S MISCELLANY, 



L^ 



A SELECTION OF ARTICLES 



PROCEEDINGS 



OF THE 



COLLEGE OF PKOFESSIONAL TEACHERS. 



By J. L. CAMPBELL and A. M. HADLEY, 




MOOKE, WILSTACH, KEYS & GO, 

NEW YORK: MILLER, OR TON & 3IULLIGAN. 

boston: whittemore, niles & hall. 

PHILA.: J. B. LIPPINCOTT <1: CO. 

1 8 5 G. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1856, by 

MOORE, WILSTACH, KEYS & CO.. 

In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United states, lor tlie Southern 

District of Ohio. 



Sterratyppil anrt Printed by 
WILLIAM OVEREND&CO. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



I. Introductory. Albert Pickett, L. L. D., 9 

IT. Domestic Education. T. J. Biggs, D. D., 15 

III. Primary Education. Geoege R. Hand, 30 

IV. Duties of Teachers and Parents. Wm. H. McGuffey, L. L. D., 44 
V. Discipline. Daniel Drake, M. D., 70 

VI. Moral Influence of Rewards. S. W. Lynd, D. D., 109 

VII. Physical Education. Wm. Wood, M. D., 129 

VIII. The Bible as a means of Moral and Intellectual Impi-ovement. 

C. E. Stowe, D. D., 156 

IX. The Formation of Society ; the propriety of including the Ele- 
mentary Principles of our Government in Popular Instruc- 
tion. Hon. Judge McLean, 183 

X. The Classification of Human Knowledge. Roswell Park, 

A. M., 205 

XL Importance of Moral Education keeping pace with the Pro- 
gress of the Mechanic Arts. Rev. Benjamin Huntoon,...232 
XIL The Classics. Prof. T. M. Post, 244 

XIII. American Education. Nathaniel Holley, A. M., 286 

XIV. Mathematics. E. D. Mansfield, L. L. D., 313 

XV. American Education. T. S. Grimke, L. L. D., 343 

XVL The Study of Modern Languages. J. F. Meline, 390 

XVII. The English Language and Literature. B. P. Aydelott, D. D., 415 



PREFACE 



In presenting this volume to the public, the compilers hope 
and believe they are rendering an acceptable service, and one 
which will assist in promoting education. 

The College of Professional Teachers was organized in 1833, 
at Cincinnati, and held annual sessions until 1841. 

Scattered through their published proceedings are many arti- 
cles of a superior character, and yet these, thus embodied, are 
locked up from those who would otherwise be profited by 
them. 

We hope we have made such selections from these proceed- 
ings as will render the volume useful to all who feel any 
interest in the true and solid advancement of our educational 
enterprises. 

Commencing with Domestic Education, it gives suggestions, 
in regard to the training of youth, until they have passed 
through a full course of instruction. 

The variet}' of topics makes it a Teacher's, Miscellany, alike 
profitable to instructors in the primary school, the academy or 
the college. 

We have preferred to give the whole of each article, in 
order to do full justice to the worthy author of it. 

To the list of valuable books forming the Teacher s Library^ 
we ask that this may be added, believing it to be worthy of 
Buch a place. 

Wabash College. Mardh. 1856. 
(7) 



TEACHERS' MISCELLANY. 



INTRODUCTOEY, 

BY ALBERT PICKET. L-L.D. 



The possession of knowledge reflects the highest dignity 
on our rational nature. It is this which diffuses a radi- 
ance through the darkness of the human mind, and con- 
verts the chaos of ignorance into morals, literature and 
science. Knowledge is derived from instruction and educa- 
tion. In the history of the world, we can trace the origin 
of the arts and sciences ; and, that civilized nations, as well 
as individuals, have received most of their light from one 
another. 

The philosophers of antiquity were instructed by some 
superior minds, in their various departments of learning : 
Theophrastus was instructed by Aristotle, and Aristotle by 
Plato. 

Wherever education has been cherished, knowledge has 
increased. From this cause, the present age has risen to 
its high state of literary and scientific greatness. 

The development of mind, in the progress of human im- 
provement, never fails to interest those who are reaping 
the rich triumphs of genius ; nor can the great progress 
which has been made in rational education be viewed with 
indifference by the wise and good ; although the science of 
it is not yet fully understood. The light of reason has, 

(9) 



10 INTRODUCTORY. 

indeed, dawned, in all its brightness, on the few; but, the 
mists of ignorance and prejudice, which have so long en- 
veloped it, are not wholly dispelled. But, when we take 
into view, how much has been accomplished, in so short a 
period of time, in the West, and mostly by the combined 
exertions of the teachers themselves, we cannot but look 
forward, and hope that the errors which still cling to the 
practice of teaching, will give place to views more enlarged 
and more enlightend. It is when mind is brought into 
contact with mind, that we may expect to see the unfold- 
ing and expanding intellect applied to the great and benev- 
olent purposes of elevating and moralizing our race. 

System and aroused attention, in all educational matters, 
are indispensable to improvement. The human mind is so 
constituted, that it seems to be necessary to bring it into 
contact with some exciting causes to quicken its energies. 
And, though these causes may even be of an artificial kind, 
yet, if they exercise and discipline the mind, and prepare 
it for future efforts, one grand object is accomplished. 

What avail the refined intellect and splendid attain- 
ments of a teacher, if he have no talent or tact for com- 
municating his knowledge ? We greatly mistake, by sup- 
posing that the attainment of knowledge is the only 
requisite of a teacher. His ability to use his knowl- 
edge to advantage, is no less important than is his attain- 
ment. The criterion of merit should consist, not so much 
in what he knows, as in what he can do : he should be able 
to impart his knowledge to others. The human mind was 
never more active, as regards education, than at tJie pres- 
ent time ; yet the van does not progress — the movements 
are confined to the centre : — It is the schoolmaster who is 
abroad — not the alchymist, the astrologer or diviner of 
mysteries : — It is the age of useful knowledge, and decent 
mediocrity. 



INTRODUCTORY. 11 

The intellectual condition of every school is in proportion 
to the capacity and skill of the teacher. His ability to 
teach assigns the limit in most cases to the intellectual im- 
provements of his pupils. A teacher of moderate qualifi- 
cations will leave the greater part of his pupils at that 
point at which his own progress ceased; while one who 
possesses the requisite ability, rarely fails of inspiring 
them with his own love of knowledge. He gives them a 
thorough insight into the branches which are taught, not 
only in his own, but in the higher places of learning, and 
thereby lays the foundation for extensive future improve- 
ment. He points out to them the sources from which they 
can derive materials for higher excellence and usefulness ; 
and prepares them for entering into competition with those 
whose intellectual advancement has been superior to their 
own. Such a teacher will render a school what it ought 
to be, and what justice demands. 

The possession of knowledge does not always carry with 
it the faculty of communicating it to others: — for this 
reason, the best methods of practical instruction should be 
the subjects of discussion, in the doings of this convention. 
Teachers should know how to command the attention of 
their pupils : — to communicate their ideas to them in the 
manner the best calculated to make a lasting impression 
on their minds : — to lead them into the habit of examining 
for themselves, instead of leaving them to be dependent, 
at every step, on some one else. They should be taught 
to observe, investigate, analyze, and classify objects : — 
combine the results of their own observations, and draw 
conclusions from the facts which they have obtained. Un- 
der such a system of instruction, the mind can not fail to 
gain strength, and to acquire a confidence in the result of 
its own operations, which is the best safeguard against the 
prevalence of error, and against those impositions which 



12 INTRODUCTORY. 

are the fruit of imbibing opinions without a rigid scrutiny 
into the foundations on which they rest. 

In carrying out the system of instruction here recom- 
mended, it should not be forgotten, for a moment, by those 
who are engaged in this important task, that the object of 
education is not merely to amass the greatest possible 
amount of information, but to develope and discipline the 
intellectual and moral faculties. It is in vain that the 
stores of knowledge be enlarged, if the teacher's skill to 
employ them for useful purposes, be not also acquired. At 
every step, the mind should be taught to rely on the exer- 
cise of its own powers. The pupils in all our schools, at a 
proper age and advancement, should be required to assign 
some reason about what they are studying ; not only with 
a view to give them a thorough comprehension of the 
subject, but for the purpose of cultivating that habit of 
critical investigation, which is not satisfied until every 
part of the subject of inquiry is distinctly understood. 

The prevailing systems of education, in most cases, are 
calculated to burden the memory with mere facts, and 
undefined terms and rules ; of which the proper application 
is but imperfectly comprehended by the learners. This 
defect is at war with the spirit of the age, which is to 
probe to its inmost depths every subject of knowledge, and 
convert the results of the inquiries to useful purposes. 

Practical usefulness is the great end of intellectual 
discipline : — It should, therefore, be kept steadily in view 
by every teacher ; and he will soon discover that when the 
reason, or usefulness, of any thing he is teaching, is clear- 
ly presented to the mind of his pupil, it will arouse an in- 
terest, which, in the absence of it, he may labor in vain to 
excite. 

In too many of our schools there is much time lost and 
labor misapplied by injudicious methods of instruction — 



INTRODUCTORY. 13 

these schools are places in which are collected isolated 
facts ; reading that which is not understood, or in following 
out trifling details, rather than for disciplining the faculties 
of the mind. This radioed error sJioidd he corrected. Pu- 
pils should he taught to think, and exercise their own 
judgment, instead of treasuring up the thoughts of others, 
or in wasting their time in idleness or frivolous lessons. 

The trainino' of the mind with a view to useful results, 
is what is expected from professional teachers. And the 
great instrument of reform in modes of teaching, will he, 
to teach principles ; and to make demonstration keep pace 
with knowledge. Nothing should he left unexplained ; 
and in cultivating the reasoning powers, the memory- 
should he strengthened hy hahitual exercise, and stored 
with truth and useful facts. 

The mind cannot he hrought into complete exercise, 
without a systematic discipline of all its faculties. It is 
this, in its higher degrees, that distinguishes one human 
heing so vastly from another, and is the primary cause of 
the achievements of the few who lead the way in philoso- 
phy and the arts. To this point, then, the most exact and 
systematic attention should he given ; for, it is certain, on 
the one hand, that any scheme of education which leaves 
this faculty of the mind either uncultivated or incidentally 
developed, must he extremely faulty ; — and on the other, 
that, if a method of training, consonant with the principles 
of the human mind, he digested and ahly put into practice, 
and the intention of which shall he to give the highest 
possihle advantage to this first power of the rational nature, 
every thing else will he easy and properous. 

IN CONCLUSION. 

There is nothing, save Religion and the worship of God, 
that more nearly concerns us, as a people, than Education. 



14 INTRODUCTORY. 

It is the noblest upstay of our social, civil and political 
compact ; — tlie firmest support of our prosperity and hap- 
piness. Is sucli a subject to bo neglected, or paralyzed by 
indifference or apathy ? Oh no — no ! my friends, no — we 
have but one feeling in this holy cause. Then let us not 
be remiss or estranged ; — let us labor conjointly to diffuse 
its blessings far and wide. 

Although we have been misrepresented by apostates, 
imposters and speculators ; ridiculed and persecuted; yet we 
have firm friends who have encouraged us to go on in " the 
even tenor of our way ;" keeping constantly in view, that, 
in proportion as intellectual and moral culture is diffused, 
so will the chances of increasing the usefulness and happi- 
ness of man be multiplied. Yes — let us still be united, in 
carrying out the original design of our institution ; and ren- 
der it, what it was intended to be — *' The Teachers' Col- 
lege," — the object of which was, and is, to blend the 
principles and practice of the scholastic art into a system 
of instruction adapted to the wants of the people, and to 
elevate the Teachers' Profession to its proper standard. 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

BY T. J. BIGGS. D. J). 



1. The harbinger of our country's future weal is seen 
and heard, in the increasing solicitude of our nation for a 
sound and sdlMtary system of public instruction. Enlight- 
ened public sentiment now harmonizes upon the proposition, 
that the perpetuity of our civil institutions rests entirely upon 
the rightly balanced character of the rising age ; assuming 
the principle that hnoivledge is poiver — the most powerful 
engine which human agency can wield — the great problem 
is, to give the mind the right direction, so that the power 
thus entrusted, instead of being an Instrument of Univer- 
sal evil may, in the hands of a virtuous people, secure to 
all future time, the inheritance which we enjoy. 

2. We regard with unfeigned delight, the claims now so 
freely and ably urged, in favor of universal moral education. 
The common sense of the community, hitherto too little 
intent upon this object, is now waking up, and the ener- 
gies of the heart and intellect are now urging the enter- 
prise of promoting moral culture, co-extensive with the 
diffusion of literary privileges. The fact is now recognized, 
and beginning to be felt, '' that high mental attainments 
afford no adequate security against moral debasement.'^ 
This discovery has been followed by an earnest call for 
such improvements in the system of education as shall 

[lo] 



16 DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

unite, most efficiently, the melioration of the heart, with 
the hest developments of the intellectual powers. The 
plain, indisputable maxim, that " The fear of the Lord h the 
beginning of wisdom,'^ is fast regaining its right location in 
the system of human improvement ; and the Bihle begins 
again to take its appropriate place, in the early formation 
of the youthful mind. 

3. This I regard as one of the most propitious signs of 
the times. " Things as they should be," said the lamented 
Grimke, " demand imperatively, that education should be 
decidedly religious. It is granted, on all hands, that relig- 
ion is the higliest interest of man ; that it is the cement of 
society, and the foundation of government ; that it is the 
best safeguard of duty, and a fountain of the purest hap- 
piness." With these sentiments I entirely accord ; and I 
see not how American institutions can be preserved, with- 
out the universal diffusion of the Christian religion, 
*' emphatically the religion of the people." " Nothing" 
said the illustrious Rush, "can be politically right, that is 
morally wrong ; and no necessity can sanctify a law that is 
contrary to equity. Virtue is the soul of the republic. 
There is but one method of preventing crime, and of 
rendering a republican form of government durable, and 
that is, by disseminating the seeds of virtue and knowl- 
edge through every part of the state." Said another of 
our American Patriots : " To secure the perpetuation of 
our republican form to future generations, let divines and 
philosophers and statesmen, and patriots, unite their 
endeavors to renovate the age ; by impressing the minds of 
the people with the importance of educating their little 
hoys and girls.'' 

It is the sentiment suggested in the last quotation, 
to which, as the principal topic of remark, 1 would 
respectfully invite the attention of my audience. Domestic 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 17 

Education. I select tliis topic for a variety of reasons : 
First, because I believe that here originates chiefly all 
that is either propitious or disastrous, in the subsequent 
development of character under the forming influences of 
public education. Here is the fountain whence flow 
streams which bless or blight wherever they flow. Second- 
ly, because I believe that our writers on education have not 
usually begun with the infant, and thence risen to a 
consideration of our duties to the youth. They have too 
generally begun with the youth; hoping that the evil of 
the existing system might be corrected at that period of 
life. Thirdly, because, as will be shown in the sequel, 
parental obligation in this matter, has too generally been 
regarded as extending to little more than liberal eflbrts to 
promote the cause of public instruction — and to secure 
from others as far as possible, the best instruction for their 
own children. In this way j^arm^aZ responsibility has 
sought to relieve itself by substituting others in its 
own place. Hence a fourth reason for selecting this topic. 
Our public instructors have in numerous instances-, been 
unreasonably required to render a service, in the very 
nature of things impossible — to fulfil the 'parents^ duty as 
well as their own. My fifth and last reason is, that unless 
information begins here, no matter what perfection may 
characterize the system exterior to Domestic Education, 
defect and failure are inevitable — for this most obvious 
reason, the 'pwpil comes too late — his character is formed. 
The disease is already deeply seated in the system. The 
infection is virulent, and, except by some extraordinary 
means, incurable. The reasons thus stated, will serve for 
the respective divisions of my whole subject. 

I. Domestic Education claims our attention, as being the 
fountain of all influences, affecting favorably, or not, the 
subsequent formation of character. This is a position so 
2 



18 DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

evidently ascertained and recognized by all accurate 
observers, that it would seem to be a useless effort to 
bring it more distinctly before the mind. It is, however, 
true, that things the simplest, most obvious, as well as the 
most necessary, sometimes escape the public eye, and 
results the most deplorable follow. I will therefore 
endeavor to give this point a little more prominence, and 
ask my fellow-citizens to give it a more patient conside- 
ration. By Domestic Education I mean nothing more nor 
less than such a system of parental care and patient effort, 
as shall secure to the child, at the first dawn of its moral 
and intellectual life, good impressions, and protect it from 
the invasion of had ones. Here I introduce no claim for 
the early use of books. The system which 1 advocate, 
precedes, in its first application, all literary instruction. 

The infant mind exerts its powers long before books, 
however simple, can be of any service. A language is 
learned ordinarily within the first two years of infant 
existence, and the elements of future character are, for the 
most part, within the same period collected and ready for 
future action. It has not escaped the observer's eye, that 
an infant, even before it reaches the power of articulate 
sounds, has learned the language of signs, and exhibits 
frequent proof of possessing no little practical skill in the 
science of physiognomy. How early is it capable of a 
distinct observation, as to the meaning of a parent's coun- 
tenance, and thence to infer what course to pursue ? Assu- 
redly, then, this is the period in human existence in which 
neglect, mistake, or m^i-administration, in the treatment 
of mind, must be disastnms. The fountain receives pollu- 
tion — it is poisoned — and the streams must carry death in 
their course. ^ 

On this subject, the ma-.»:ims of Pagan antiquity were 
full of instruction, and might well be adopted even in 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 19 

Christian communities : " Let nothing base to be seen or to 
be heard, enter the dwelling in which there is a child." Even 
the attendant upon the nursery was required to possess so 
much of literary improvement as always to use propri- 
ety of language in the hearing of the child. Heathen 
parents were instructed to use their utmost caution, to 
procure the best attendants for their children Vvdiicli their 
ability could command. The philosophy of that day taught 
them that the human mind was like the new made vessel, 
which retains the flavor first communicated ; or like the 
dyed wool, which never could be restored to its original 
purity. Now, so far as the tenaciousness of the mind for 
first impressions is concerned, their philosophy was right, 
as we know both from experience and from the testimony 
of the Bible, vrhose philosophy touching this point is, 
" train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is 
old, he will not depart from it.'^ 

If, then. Pagan philosophy, whose ken penetrated not 
beyond " the circumference of the thino;s that are seen," 
was thus wise and vigilant in protecting the infant "mind 
from vitiating influences, what should parental guardian- 
ship, directed, and enlightened, and cheered, as it may be, 
by the radiance of the sun of righteousness, secure for the 
protection of the infant mind? Shall it be said that the 
heathen were wiser in their generation than the inhabitants 
of this highly-favored land, in which moral influences are 
multiplied and secured by the Christian system? 

11. My second position is, that, to a considerable extent, 
the mistake has prevailed among tl Ivocatcs of learning, 
of commencing with the youth, :^i). the supposition that 
existing evils, evils engendered ^*n earlier life, may be cor- 
rected and removed at that perio t of life. I am aware that 
this mistake, in some o'ood deo;K ., has been discovered, and 
that no small amount of pains has already been employed 



20 DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

to correct tins error, and to place this whole question in its 
right orde7\ The American press has, within the last few 
years, furnished some most valuable periodicals, as well as 
numerous essays, the object of which has been to rectify 
this popular mistake. The effort has been earnestly made, 
to give even to infants a new dignity in the eyes of the 
community, investing their earliest habits with the highest 
importance, and calling upon us to regard every little ark 
of bulrushes as the depository, if not of a ruler or legis- 
lator, " yet of a being possessing the elements of an 
immortal mind, and destined for an immortal existence." 

But with what success these efforts have been made, we 
ascertain with little difficulty. How far soever the theory 
of the subject may have been favorably received, the prac- 
tice urged has made but little progress. The popular 
practical philosophy, in the matter, pretty generally leaves 
the nursery to manage for itself. ' The business has seemed 
too small — too insignificant for attention from the legiti- 
mate source. A business demanding time for which there 
w^as no equivalent — a business to which any mind was com- 
petent, and which to all intents and purposes, could be as 
well conducted by the stranger, brought into the family, 
and whose only object in undertaking the charge is simply 
to secure a temporary home. The period of youth receives 
somewhat better attention ; for now the period is supposed 
to have arrived, when all previously contracted bad habits, 
are to be corrected and laid aside. Now, it is presumed, 
that the hinderances can be easily removed, and the way 
for successful progress, in moral and mental culture be ren- 
dered easy, plain and sure. But against this whole theory 
stands in firm position, experience almost universal. Here 
is the period of human existence in which the vitiating 
influences of early neglect, mismanagement, the mistakes 
of ignorance, and the still worse effects of demoralizing 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 21 

example are realized, and give sad evidence of the advan- 
tage which these causes possessed, by operating upon the 
mind and forming the character, in its most impressible 
season. Habits thus early formed entwine themselves with 
the whole character — they give the predominant hue — and 
to exchange them for better is as little probable, as that 
*' the Ethiopian should change his skin, or the leopard his 
spots." Curative efforts by the influence of moral instruc- 
tion, are for the most part unavailing. The formation of 
the character at the proper period, to virtuous habits, and a 
preparation for a useful life by the early inculcation of right 
principles, is a work of easy accomplishment, compared with 
the almost hopeless toil of restoring a mind, spoiled through 
neglect of early and appropiate instruction. Let this 
error, therefore, in domestic economy be abandoned — the 
error of supposing, that the most impressible season in hu- 
man existence may be neglected and exposed, and that 
evils thereby incurred can bo obliterated from the charac- 
ter as it rises into youth. It is then in all ordinary cases 
too late — too late to send the youthful mind to be formed 
and guided by the influence of the public instructor. Un- 
practiced to yield to the early control of domestic dicipline, 
the youth knows not how to bring his untoward mind to 
submit to the wholesome regulations of the public semi- 
nary — acquainted with no will but his own, he can appreci- 
ate no obligation, wdiich binds him in the relations of pupil 
to his instructor, whose right to control he is ever prepared 
to resist. 

III. My third reason for introducing the present topic 
is, because, it appears to me that parental obligation in the 
matter of Domestic Education, has been too generally sup- 
posed to be fulfilled by liberal efforts to promote the cause of 
'public instruction ; and by warm and energetic measures, to 
increase the facilities of general education. In this way 



22 DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

parental responsibility has been transferred. We indeed 
live in an age distinguislied for its liberality — a liberality 
prompted by the purest patriotism and enlightened benevo- 
lence. To the generous spirit of the age we owe much that 
has already been realized in the cause of general education. 
Our literary and theological institutions, now rising up, 
the ornament and security of this mighty West, stand, the 
goodly monuments of the noble munificence of the present 
day. They are pledges too, that the question of means for 
national and moral improvement shall never embarrass our 
country's advancement. In all this exibition of national 
character we rejoice and give thanks. But money will 
not answer all things ; nor can it by any means be a sub- 
stitute for that influence vrhich a parent is called to exert 
in the important duty of Domestic Education. Here is the 
point and burden of my whole subject — the necessity of 
securing in the business of home-instruction, the cooperation 
of those on whom the God of heaven has, by the law of 
nature, devolved the responsibility. Consider for a moment 
the circumstances surrounding parental obligation, and 
which demonstrate the ordination of heaven in this obliga- 
tion ; circumstances which, if duly appreciated and improved, 
would soon bring domestic instruction to something like 
perfection. First, what an undefinable controlling feeling 
of aff'ectionate solicitude for the welfare of his child, has the 
author of our existence implanted in the paternal bosom — . 
with what ceaseless effort does it operate in ways and means 
to promote the well being of the child. How continuous 
and prolonged is that sentiment in a father's heart. What 
an amount of benefit might not this solicitude secure, were it 
but rightly directed ! Second, that filial reverence, if not 
previously perverted by bad example or mal-administration, 
is prepared to bow to parental authority — that confiding 
reliance, which commits everytliing to the all-sufiiciency of 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 23 

parental ability, and wliicli excludes distrust from the 
infant breast. Upon what vantage ground has heaven 
thus placed the parent, for every purpose of exciting a 
healthful moral influence in domestic education — and how 
certainly, by right administration, might the foundation 
be laid for virtuous, useful character, in youth and man- 
hood. Another consideration must here be added, and 
that is, the immense numbers that might and ought to be 
thus employed simultaneously. Suppose that all these cir- 
cumstances connected -^vith parental obligation were duly 
recognized — suppose that the numerous families which 
make up our communities were appropriately engaged in 
promoting, within their individual circles, a proper system 
of domestic education, what might be expectsd soon to be 
realized as the certain results ? They would be such as to 
show " things as they ought to be." 

The system and duty of domestic education which I here 
present, and which I wish to see adopted, demand especially 
the direct influence of the paternal presence — a demand 
not incompatible with the just claims of other avocations. 
Of the family circle, the divinely constituted head is the 
father. To him the eye of the family is directed for pro- 
tection, support, guidance, and counsel. Through him, as 
the earthly source, flow its richest blessings or its bitterest 
■woes. If the principles of religion have formed his char- 
acter and constitute the basis of his domestic government, 
his presence is like the dew upon Hermon, cheering, 
refreshing, enriching to the sacred enclosure, and his chil- 
dren are " like olive plants around his table." Thus shall 
the man be blessed, whose pious care has rendered his 
home a habitation of righteousness. 

I am well aware how fashionable it has become to eulo- 
gize a mother's importance and influence in family educa- 
tion; and this, too, not seldom at the expense of the 



24: DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

father's. Far be it from me to undervalue tlie maternal office. 
Its value in this department is above all price, and how- 
ever commended, its worth has not been too highly praised. 
I appreciate and honor that influence ; and therefore I ask 
for it something better, more substantial, than the cheaply 
furnished material of eulogy. I ask for paternal sympathy 
and help in her countless, arduous, and momentous duties ; 
and I respectfully enter my protest against the current 
practice of rolling this tremendous responsibility upon the 
maternal charge, upon the plea that the avocations of 
public life allow no time for the indispensable aid which a 
father is bound to furnish in this important work. I will 
here quote, as entirely suitable to my purpose, the views 
of an experienced teacher on this very point: "Duty would 
seem to demand that every parent should make it a serious 
inquiry how far he is authorized, by the law of love for his 
offspring and his family, to engage in such an amount of 
business, of what kind soever, as to banish him from the 
bosom of a family of which he has voluntarily made him- 
self the head — to say nothing of that relation, as consti- 
tuted by heaven — as to keep him ignorant of concerns 
which no one else should know so well ; and as to abandon 
to the care of others, those whom nature and affection have 
taught to seek in him a guardian and guide. Would it 
not be well for parents sometimes to reflect whether it 
would not be better for their families to be a little less 
wealthy, if, in consequence of it, their children might be 
rendered more capable of using what they did possess to 
better advantage? Suppose that a legal practitioner should 
have some fewer cases on his docket — a physician should 
attend to somewhat fewer patients — a place-man should 
not continue quite so long in office, or be content to hold 
somewhat fewer posts — a merchant should be content with 
a sphere of business somewhat more contracted — the man- 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 25 

iifactiirer should put somewhat fewer hundred spindles into 
operation — and the speculator should lose, now and then, a 
bargain : might not each case, in many instances, be com- 
pensated an hundred fold in the benefit done to his children 
by his own personal superintendence of their early educa- 
tion — by forming in them the love and practice of order, 
obedience, morality, temperance, and economy ?" 

IV. The fourth reason for selecting this topic is, that 
our public teachers have too generally been required to 
render a service in the very nature of things impossible — 
to fulfil the parenfs duty and their own too. Some people 
are wonderfully sagacious in finding out the faults and 
defects of teachers. They are surprised that their children 
don't learn faster; that they don't behave better. They 
send them to school, and pay considerable, and yet their 
children don't seem to be much the better. They then 
begin to find out that the fault is altogether in the teacher ; 
he don't understand his business ; or if he does, he neglects 
it ; or he is not fit to be a teacher ; he teaches only because 
he has nothing else to do, etc., etc. How many or how few 
of these sage suggestions are true or well founded, I in- 
quire not ; but I would respectfully ask, has not the parent, 
in making his estimate of the necessary means for the 
child's education, somehow or other, forgot to reckon the 
necessary help which parental cooperation ought to 
furnish ? Has not the parent, in accounting for the want 
of success in the teacher's efforts, forgotten to bring into 
tlie account the neglected infancy of the child, during 
which period it was acquiring those very habits which now 
hinder and prevent the progress of the youth in his educa- 
tion ? Don't blame your teacher, as though all the fault 
originated there. Do not suppose that the teacher, no 
matter what his competency be, can, by his exertions, 
compensate for the unpardonable omission on the part of 
8 



26 DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

the parent. To such a task, the best teacher that never 
lived is utterly incompetent. The end to be gained in the 
education of the child requires the mutual aid of both 
parent and teacher. Separate these, and failure ensues. 

The teacher has his appropriate sphere, and it requires 
all his capabilities. In stating what I conceive that sphere 
to be, without remark on his literary competency further 
than to say, that defect here will soon be detected, because 
public sentiment now demands increasing literary worth in 
those who teach, I would, while I take for granted his lite- 
rary merit, ask, does he recognise the difficulty and delicacy 
of the business of acting with and directing mind? Is he 
himself a good man? Has he that elevated sense of his 
office, by which he recognizes his duty, not to man, but to 
his Maker, in this important sphere of action? Has he 
that high moral sense which religion inspires, and, while 
teaching youth, does he feel that he is forming mind for an 
eternity of existence? Questions like these show the 
importance, the magnitude of the office which the educator 
of youth sustains, and fully indicate that his own duty is 
indeed sufficient without any other addition. The parents' 
duty, therefore, he ought not to assume, for he can not 
discharge it. His talent, piety, wisdom, discretion, dili- 
gence, firmness, kindness, and industry, are in immediate 
demand for his own service ; and, when used to their best 
advantage, with much to encourage and reward his faith- 
fulness, he will see, from causes above his control, much to 
regret. Let him not, therefore, be asked to fulfil more 
than a faithful teacher's duty. But let early domestic 
education, shielding the infant mind from vicious impres- 
sions and vicious habits — preparing it by the bland and 
salutary influence of parental control, confirming it in 
the possession of every virtuous sentiment, and familiari- 
zing it with example drawn from the perfect pattern of 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 27 

the autlior of Christianity — thus prepare the pupil to come 
to the phice of public instruction. Then will obedience, 
respect, and docility be the characteristics of his conduct as 
a learner ; and the result will be complete success. 

V. My last reason for suggesting this general topic is, 
that unless information begins at this point, no matter 
what perfection belongs to the systems exterior to Domes- 
tic Education, defeat and failure are inevitable. I do not 
by this statement mean to say that there will not be again, 
as there have been already, illustrious instances of those 
who have surmounted the greatest obstacles, and emerged 
from the deepest adversities of early neglect; and, in 
spite of the most untoward beginnings, have risen high in 
intellectual and moral worth, and become burning and 
shining lights. But these were exceptions to the rule, 
and such must be all similar examples, unless reformation 
shall begin at home. On what ground can we reasonably 
hope for success, while things at home remain as they have 
been ? The evil is radical, and what will it avail to prune 
the external branches while the root is allowed still to dete- 
riorate? "Make the tree good — the root — and then the 
fruit will be good." And why may not this reformation 
begin at home at once ? Is the necessity for it doubted or 
denied ? Does not every parent feel that something ought 
to be done, and might be done, to improve the domestic 
circle in this respect ? Has he done what he feels he ought 
to have done, and might have done ? Is not this proverb- 
ially an age of improvement? Is not our land full of the 
wonders of art from mechanical inventions? and are not 
the facilities for promoting our civil, commercial, and lite- 
rary institutions multiplying on our hands a thousand fold ? 
Shall we witness the efforts of literary associations, and 
the employment of the best talent of the nation, sedulously 
laboring to prepare the best system of education ? And, 



28 DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 

with all these in our view, shall we still refuse to make the 
requisite and corresponding efforts at home ? 

Having now stated and discussed my reasons for selecting 
this topic for the present occasion, allow me to state what, 
in my opinion, are the desiderata to a competent system of 
Domestic Education : 

1. A just recognition of the responsibility of parental 
obligation as constituted by the appointment of heaven. 
This sentiment lies at the foundation. It is a first prin- 
ciple in the doctrine of parental duty. To every parent is 
intrusted the care of an immortal mind — the heaviest of 
all human responsibilities. 

2. A just appreciation of the native character of the 
child, inheriting a nature prepared on the first openings of 
the mind, to exhibit moral obliquity, and afiinity to any and 
every vitiating influence with which it comes in contact. 

3. A faithful reference to the Bible for counsel and 
direction as to the appropriate means for the right man- 
agement of the infant mind, with a cheerful confidence of 
success in the faithful application of the means 

4. The practical application of some such general prin- 
ciples as the following, viz : 

(1.) That more depends on the prevention of evil than 
on the application of the best remedy. Experience abun- 
dantly confirms this rule. It is comparatively easy to pre- 
vent the formation of a bad habit, but very difficult to lay 
it aside. 

(2.) That precept and advice, however good, unless en- 
forced by a consistent example, will avail but little. This 
every body understands. 

(3.) That to form a good habit is of much more impor- 
tance than to inculcate the wisest rules. 

Nothing within the range of human duty requires more 
patient effort than the serious business of Domestic Edu- 



DOMESTIC EDUCATION. 29 

cation ; for this reason, no doubt, many a one shrinks from 
the attempt. Its difficulty is the reason why it should be 
vigorously undertaken, and perseveringly maintained. It 
has this encouragement, that success sooner or later will 
reward the faithful effort. To the specific subject of dis- 
cipline in Domestic Education, this essay makes but little 
reference. The best discipline, in my opinion, is that 
influence upon the tender mind, which the kind, affectionate, 
intelligent interest of the parent, for the good of the child, 
will in all ordinary cases not fail to exert. Let the heart 
of the child be secured by that exibition of conduct which 
flows from Christian principles cordially adopted, and all 
that is requisite in the use of discipline will usually be 
gained. And when the suggestions contained in this essay 
shall exert their due influence throughout the communities 
of human society, and by their seasonable application pro- 
duce the reform in the domestic circle for which this essay 
pleads, then will our homes be the abodes of purity, intel- 
ligence, and love. Our academies and colleges will be 
furnished with ingenuous youth, whose minds, brought by 
pious instruction into alliances with the infinite source of 
all knowledge, will range through the regions of truth and 
science, preparing by the best of all attainments, *' the fear 
of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom,'^ for useful- 
ness on earth — and an exalted sphere of glorious action in 
a better and brighter world. And as it respects our beloved 
land and nation, we shall be beautiful for situation — the 
joy of the whole earth ; for " wisdom and knowledge shall 
be the stability of our times and strength of salvation." 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 

BY GEO. E. HAND. 



In a course of education, mucli depends upon commenc- 
ing right. That portion of education which we call 'primary ^ 
and which first leads the pupils into the paths of learning, 
derives additional importance from the fact, that to the 
manner in which it is conducted, may be attributed 
much of the success, and many of the failures in the 
succeeding course. It may be regarded as lying at the 
foundation of all education, and designed to prepare a sure 
basis upon which the educational superstructure may be 
erected. How important then, that this foundation should 
be laid well, as the superstructure in some measure depends 
upon it for its own stability ! The skillful architect will not 
look merely to the finishing off and adorning of the 
edifice ; but will first of all take care that the foundation 
is laid sufficiently broad, and deep, and substantial, to 
sustain the structure which is to be erected upon it. This 
he knows is necessary, in order to make it capable of 
answering the end for which it was designed ; for if the 
foundation be deficient, the entire superstructure is liable 
to injury, if not ruin, on its account. This is no less true 
in the business of the educator, than that of the architect. 
(30) 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 



31 



The object of primary education is to prepare the mind 
for the reception of that knowledge which it is destined 
afterwards to acquire, rather than to communicate knowl- 
edge to minds unprepared to digest or appreciate it ; to 
ediicate rather than teach. For there is a difference 
between mere teaeliing and educating. The process of 
teaching communicates knowledge ; while that of educating 
draws out, cultivates, developes and strengthens all the 
faculties of the mind, and enables it to acquire knowledge 
for itself, and to digest and appropriate to useful purpose 
what it acquires. This is emphatically so in our primary 
schools. Here the pupils should pass through a course of 
mental training which will lay a solid foundation for future 
acquisitions, and prepare them to enter with credit and 
advantage to themselves, upon the higher branches of 
learning. 

It must be evident to all who have any experience in 
this matter, that the systems of instruction now in opera- 
tion in most of our primary schools, fail in a great measure 
to accomplish this object. Not unfrequently we. find 
pupils who have spent months, or even years, in the primary 
school, and yet, so far as correct mental training is 
concerned, are but little better than when they entered. 
Nay, sometimes even worse ! for they have acquired idle 
habits, which it will require more time and labor to correct 
than it would have taken to form correct ones at first. 
There seems to be a want of thoroughness and efiiciency in 
our methods of instruction. I speak not of any particular 
place, but of common practice and common defects, wher- 
ever such defects may be found. The colleges complain, that 
the students sent to them are not thorough in their 



iVVe.— Education is derived from educo are, to nourish, and not educo 
ere, to draw out. — Eds. 



32 PEIMARY EDUCATION. 

academic course ; and the academics, tliat tliey have not been 
thoroughly trained in the primary schools. 

Errors imbibed, and injurious habits contracted by the 
pupils in the commencement, unless corrected by proper 
management, will cling to them, and " grow with their 
growth, and strengthen with their strength." As early 
impressions are the most lasting, great care should be 
taken that the instruction in our primary schools is such as to 
accustom the pupils to habits of attention and observation, 
and at the same time, guard them against those influences 
which will tend to foster idle, inattentive and vicious habits. 
I believe that one great source of the idle and inattentive 
habits of pupils in our schools and academies, may be 
found in the inefficient mode in which they have been 
taught in the preparatory department. Here, on the very 
threshold of the temple of learning, they are frequently 
initiated into ways of idleness, from a want of sufficient 
attention. The teacher perhaps, has more under his care 
than one individual can teach to advantage; or perhaps 
there is a want of efficiency in the mode of conducting the 
school, and while the teacher is employed with one class, 
the pupils of the other classes are allowed to sit in the 
school room unemployed, during a large portion of their 
time : or rather they are compelled to sit in idleness. And 
this is to them a punishment rather than a pleasure, for 
children are naturally disposed to be active, and it is fatiguing 
to their bodies and stultifying to their minds to be required 
to sit still without employment, for any considerable length 
of time. It requires more exertion for young chidren to 
sit still long at a time, than to be active. Nay, it is 
almost impossible for them to sit still when they have 
nothing on which to employ their minds. The activity of 
their thoughts is such that they must and will be employed 
in one way or another, and if no profitable employment is 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 33 

famished by the systematic arrangement of the school, for 
the pupils during that portion of the time in which they 
are not engaged in recitation, they will ho occupied in that 
which may be unprofitable, if not pernicious in its tendency. 
Or should they be able to comply with the requisitions of 
stillness without employment, they must, of necessity, 
become listless and inattentive to what is going on around 
them. And here is laid the foundation of idle habits in 
the school room, of inattention, and carelessness in regard 
to study. And whose fault is it? Not theirs, certainly ; 
for they are forced into it by the circumstances in which 
they have been placed. 

Now if this be the process by which they are initiated 
into the halls of learning, and these the habits they are 
driven into on their entrance there, need we wonder that 
the school becomes a prison to them ; and that they learn 
to dislike their school and their books, and carry with 
them the indolent and careless habits here contracted, into 
the higher walks of learning, if they are so fortunate as to 
advance so far? "This is a grievous fault," and griev- 
ously has the cause of education suffered from it. 

Now I maintain that pupils, whether primary or more 
advanced, should never be permitted to remain idle in the 
school room, for want of employment. They should be 
kept busy at something, whereby they will form habits of 
industry, and learn that the school room is not a place for 
idleness, but for mental activity. Those who are far 
enough advanced to study for themselves, can be kept 
employed without much difficulty. But it will require 
much ingenuity, and skill, and vigilance, on the part of the 
teacher, to keep those employed who have not yet learned 
to study for themselves, and w^ho are emphatically the 
primary pupils. 

Young pupils should not be confined in the school room 



34 PRIMARY EDUCATION. 

longer tlian they can be profitably employed. If suitable 
play grounds could be procured, I would have them spend 
a much larger portion of their time in pleasant and 
healthful recreation in the open air, than is customary in 
our schools. In this respect, the country has the advan- 
tage over the city, for they can take their recreation in the 
pure air, among the groves, surrounded by the works of 
nature, where every thing is favorable to healthful and 
invigorating exercise. Here physical education will be 
carried on in connexion with intellectual and moral ; and 
the mind and body will both be invigorated by appropriate 
recreation. But long sessions will have the contrary effect. 
JFroni experience and observation, I am satisfied, that the 
great length of time the pupils in many of our primary 
schools are kept in the school room in each day, is a posi- 
tive injury to them, and that what is gained in time is 
lost in consequence of a want of vigor and energy of mind 
and body. And here we may discover another fruitful 
source of the idle dispositions of pupils, so much complain- 
ed of in our schools. 

But what subjects are to engage the attention of pupils 
in the primary schools? In what way are they to be 
introduced? How are the pupils to be provided with 
employment during the school hours ? And how are they 
to be trained to habits of thought and attention, and taught 
to study and learn for themselves, from books and from 
nature ! These are questions worthy our careful considera- 
tion, and upon which our united experience should be 
brought to bear. It is evident that young pupils, when 
first entering our primary schools, are not competent to 
study for themselves. They are not prepared to walk in 
the new path in which they have entered. At every step 
they require the skilful hand of the instructor, not only to 
guide and direct, but lead them forward, just as the infant 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 35 

requires assistance in learning to walk. But as they grad- 
ually receive strength and skill from daily exercise, they 
are soon capable of advancing with less assistance, until at 
length they are able to walk and run alone, and only 
require the direction of the teacher to keep them in the 
right path. 

Pupils in the early stage of learning, then, it would 
appear, require more of the teacher's attention than those 
farther advanced. And great skill is necessary here to 
render the exercises interesting enough to fix the attention 
of the pupils on the subjects presented. We are too apt 
to think that any person who can read, is capable of teach- 
ing in the primary schools, whether they have any experi- 
ence or skill in teaching or not. But herein is a great 
error. If any teacher requires talent and skill, and vigi- 
lance and life, and activity and ingenuity, and a practical 
acquaintance with the juvenile mind, it is the teacher of 
the primary school, for he must operate upon the untrained 
mind, and mold and fashion it, and lay the foundation on 
which others are to build. 

It should be born in mind that the subjects studied in 
our primary and common schools, are not so much the 
objects of learning, as the instruments for the acquisition of 
knowledge. Hence pupils are to be trained to the proper 
use of these instruments, that they may be prepared to 
wield them skilfully, and with effect. Of these, Language 
and Numbers may be regarded as the chief, the elemen- 
tary principles of which constitute the basis of a course of 
primary education. 

As Language, either written or oral, is the medium 
through which w^e are to derive most of the knowledge we 
ever acquire in the various departments of science, it would 
seem to have strong claims to our early attention in a 
course of primary studies. Indeed, the acquisition of 



36 PRIMAKY EDUCATION. 

knowledge on this subject, may be regarded as having 
commenced with the earliest dawnings of intellect, and the 
firs-t lisping of the infantile voice. The little prattlers 
are every day making additions to their stock of knowledge, 
in the application of oral language to the objects around 
them. But when we receive them into our schools, we 
introduce them to language in another form, that is, to 
written language. And care should be taken in the com- 
mencement, and throughout, to show the connexion between 
oral and written language, and between the words, and 
the ideas and things represented by them. 

It is possible for pupils to learn to spell and read, 
without recoOTiizino; the connexion between written and 
oral language ; and they sometimes learn in that way. 
They appear to regard the words as combinations of letters, 
representing certain mysterious sounds, which they learn 
to pronounce mechanically, without attaching to them any 
ideas. But this ought not so to be. They should be 
taught that articulate sounds are the signs of our ideas, and 
that the letters or written words are the representatives of 
those sounds. In order to do this properly, their exercises 
in reading, and indeed in all their studies, should be 
agreeably interspersed with oral instruction, by which 
means also they may acquire a knowledge of things, the 
nature and uses of the objects with which they are surroun- 
ded, and the senses by w^hich they perceive these objects. 

Much may be done by conversing freely with pupils of 
all grades, upon the various productions of nature and of 
art, which come under our observation, however familiar 
they may be, by daily contact, or however strange 
and unknown. In this way the most ordinary objects, 
which from familiarity scarcely attract a passing notice, 
may be made interesting and fruitful subjects of conversa- 
tion for a class, as well for reflection as examination. 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 37 

But tliey need some person to put them on the right track 
for investigation, and to lead them on till they have acqui- 
red sufficient experience and practice to enable them to 
think, to analyse, combine and classify the objects of their 
attention. They need be at no loss for subjects for carry- 
ing on this exercise. Subjects will daily present them- 
selves, and crowd upon the attention unasked. 

The great store-house of nature is open before us, pre- 
senting inexhaustible stores of rich subjects for our consid- 
eration, by the examination of which the mind is led 
" through nature up to nature's God.'' The productions 
of the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms, in 
all their innumerable varieties, present themselves in 
array before us and claim our attention ; while the various 
departments of the mechanic arts, in all their ramifica- 
tions, are daily furnishing us with interesting subjects of 
profitable investigation. In view of this may we not find 
it to our advantage to be engaged in picking up a few 
pebbles on the shore of that vast ocean which spread itself 
in prospective view before the mind of a departing Newton. 

The books in which they are learning to read, the slates 
and pencils which they daily use, the seats they occupy, 
the house which shelters them from the storm, the clothes 
that they wear, the food that they eat, and the objects 
which attract their attention along the path to and from 
school, all may be made interesting topics of thought and 
conversation. The untutored Indian who *' knew not the 
God of revelation, beheld the God of the universe in 
every thing around him." And shall not the children of 
enlightened freemen be taught to consider these subjects, 
and trace the footsteps of the author of nature, in his works. 

Now suppose when a lesson has been learned, we make 
the mechanical structure of the book itself the subject of a 



38 PRIMARY EDUCATION. 

short conversational lesson. The pupils perhaps have never 
thought of the book in any other light than that of a unit — 
a single inanimate object — and perhaps will be surprised 
to be told that enough may be said about it to make an 
interesting lesson. But we w^ill proceed to analyze and 
examine. We very readil}^ perceive that we divide the com- 
ponent parts into two general divisions, viz : the back and 
the leaves. The back is composed of paper and leather 
or cloth, put together with paste ; and the leaves, with their 
contents, consist of paper and ink. We may then take each 
of the substances which constitute the subdivisions, and 
trace them through all the various processes they have 
undergone in their preparation, and w*e shall have made 
out a very interesting lesson. 

The leather we may trace back through the various pro- 
cesses of tanning and currying, until we find that it was 
once the skin of some animal, and is now chemically com- 
bined with a substance obtained from the bark of trees. 
Likewise, the paper may be traced through the paper mill, 
the power loom, the spinning factory, and the cotton gin, 
back to the field where it grew. And so of the other parts. 
We shall find tliat almost every mechanical art has been 
called into requisition, either directly or indirectly, in the 
production of the materials of the book, even before they 
came into the hands of the printer and binder. 

An examination of this kind, however simple it might 
appear, may give rise to inquiries, and elicit trains of 
thought, which may lead to the discovery of much useful 
knowledge, and the developement of many an active mind. 

If we ask the pupils occasionally to give us a description 
of the objects they may have seen on the way to or from 
school, they wdll soon learn to observe more closely every 
thing they pass, in order to be able to give a description of 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 39 

it. And objects which they have heretofore passed unno- 
ticed, will now be scanned with minute observation. 

These descriptions shoukl usually be given in writing 
by those pupils who are far enough advanced to write them on 
slates. They will then learn to commit their own thoughts 
to writing. Though the immediate object of this may be 
to enable them to give a description of what they had seen, 
the ultimate advantage will be to give them habits of ob- 
servation, thought and attention. 

The exercises should be conducted in a lively and interest- 
ing manner, in order to secure their attention, and teach 
them to think and act briskly. Celerity in thought and 
action, both on the part of the instructor and the pupils, 
will add much to the interest of the exercises. 

Pupils will learn the alphabet, and learn to spell and 
read, with more facility, by writing the words and letters 
of their lessons on slates. The forms of the letters, and 
their combinations in words, will be much more per- 
manently fixed in their minds if they make them for them- 
selves. The slates will furnish the pupils with the means 
of agreeable exercises in writing and drawing, for their em- 
ployment while not engaged in recitation. They will very 
soon learn to write their reading lessons with accuracy and 
despatch, and in a plain neat manner. 

In learning to read they should be taught accurately and 
thoroughly so far as they go. There is not enough atten- 
tion paid to this branch of learning in our schools. Bead- 
ing, instead of being a mere mechanical operation, should 
be made an intellectual exercise. Pupils should not be al- 
lowed to read over whole pages in a careless superficial 
manner, but they should learn thoroughly, and be able to 
read and spell accurately and understandingly every lesson 
before leaving it. I am fully convinced that the general 



40 PRIMARY EDUCATION. 

deficiency in reading, is owing to inefficient and superficial 
modes of instruction. Tlie quantity read is not so much an 
object as the manner in which it is learned and read. One 
suitable book, accurately and understandingly read, thor- 
oughly learned and well digested, will be of more real ad- 
vantage to the pupil, than a multitude of books perused in 
the usual careless superficial manner. 

As soon as their minds are prepared for it, they should 
be taught to analyze words and sentences, and examine the 
parts of which they are composed. The analysis and syn- 
thesis of words may be made a very interesting as well as 
instructive exercise, and will tend to promote habits of at- 
tention^ and lead to an accurate and critical knowledge of 
language. The pupil not accustomed to analyzing, will 
regard each derivative word as a whole, or a unit, with a 
meaning according to the definition he has found for it in 
his dictionary; while he who has been taught on the analytical 
plan, will regard them as individuals of a family of words 
derived from one primitive, but modified in their significa- 
tion by their different inflections. It has been said that, 
" written language is crystalized thought.^' Let us then 
teach our pupils to analyze those crystals, and arrive at a 
knowledge of the thoughts contained in them. They will 
then learn to examine for themselves, to investigate, and" 
to think. And this is one of the chief objects of education, 
and perhaps the most difficult to accomplish. It is certain- 
ly one in the accomplishment of which there is a very great 
want of success. If pupils are not placed in situations 
where they are compelled to think, they are very apt to 
dispense with that most important exercise. If the think- 
ing is all done for them by the teacher or the author of their 
books, so that they will have nothing to do but to remember 
the results in the words of the instructor or the book, they will 



PKIMARY EDUCATION. 41 

lose the most valuable part of the exercise ; — they will culti- 
vate the memory to the detriment of the reason and judgment 
Those teachers will render the most permanent and abiding 
assistance to their pupils who place them in situations 
where they will be compelled to think, — to call up 
the energies of their own mind to aid them in their work. 
Too much direct assistance given to pupils, instead of being 
a real advantage to them, will render them helpless and 
dependent upon others for the solution or removal of diffi- 
culties. The exercises of the pupils should be active rather 
than passive. Instruct them to search for knowledge rather 
than wait for it to be brought to them. Lead them to the 
fountain and teach them to draw for themselves the rich 
draughts of learning. 

Now suppose we take a class and assign them a lesson 
which they are to read at a stated hour. They come forward 
at the appointed time and read their specified lesson. If mis- 
takes are made they are corrected of course, and all passes off 
without much difficulty on the part of the pupils. Now those 
who expect that the pupils will use much mental exertion 
in the preparation of a lesson of this kind, know but little 
of the nature of the youthful mind, and will be disappoint- 
ed in their expectation. Perhaps they are called upon to 
define some of the most important words in the lesson, in 
preparation for which they have committed to memory the 
the definition from the dictionary, which is all very well 
in its place ; but yet it does not entirely accomplish the 
leading object, which is or ought to be mental exertion, — 
not merely the exercise of the memory, but of the reason- 
ing powers. 

Now suppose we take another class, with perhaps the 
same lesson, but who, in addition to spelling, reading and 
defining, are required to be prepared to take their slates 
4 



42 PRIMARY EDUCATION. 

and write out their lesson, substituting for many of the sig- 
nificant words, others that will convey the same idea. 
Here they are compelled to rely upon their own judgment in 
determining what definitions are most suited to the place 
that each word occupies in the sentence before them, and 
they cannot decide with certainty without getting at the 
sense of the sentence. Now let them write upon their 
slates, a list of the variations and inflections of all the words 
in the lesson that admit of inflection. Here they must 
think in order to determine which words admit of inflection, 
and which do not. And then some discrimination is nec- 
essary in determining what variations will suit the differ- 
ent words and make sense, and in placiug the accent 
properly on the derivatives thus formed. If they will then 
form original sentences in which they will usfe these deriva- 
tive words, it will render the exercises still more valuable. 

Pupils may commence the study of Aritlimetic in connec- 
tion with reading, on their entrance into school. They 
will soon learn to carry on operations in the mind, by which 
their reasoning powers may be cultivated and strengthened. 
The various combinations of numbers will gradually become 
familiar operations that they can perform with facility. 
Their exercises, however, in numbers, need not be confined 
to mental operations exclusively, without any visible signs. 
Exercises on the slate and black board may accompany the 
earliest lessons in the primary school, which will furnish 
additional employment for pupils, when not engaged in 
recitation. The particulars of this branch, however, I leave 
for those who are to report on that subject. 

Care should be taken not to burden the minds of young- 
pupils with too many studies at once. To set them to study- 
ing a great many subjects at the same time, and that with- 
out the necessary previous training, and allow them to get 



PRIMARY EDUCATION. 43 

a smattering of many before they learn any well, is, in 
the estimation of your reporter, an unwarranted waste of 
time, and an introduction to superficial habits of study. 
Yet I have seen grammars and geographies put into the 
hands of children who could scarcely read intelligibly, or 
spell the words which they contained. 

I am convinced that the practice of simplifying and intro- 
ducing the higher branches into our schools before the pu- 
pils are prepared for them by previous mental training, is 
unfavorable to sound mental culture, and calculated to 
foster superficial acquisitions. The intellectual exercise 
necessary in the acquisition of knowledge is the most 
important object to be aimed at in a course of primary 
education. 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

BY WILLIAM H. M'GUFFY, L. L. D. 



Fellow Citizens: — 

The time has gone by in which doubts were entertained 
by the intelligent, as to the necessity and practicability of 
general education. 

Our public servants and professional men are educated ; 
and the 'people must speedily be educated, that they may, 
on the one hand, protect their own interests, and on the 
other, prevent the suspicion and temptation to which popu- 
lar ignorance must always expose the better informed por- 
tions of the community? 

Our citizens at large are less informed on subjects 
connected with the medical profession, than perhaps any 
other ; and, consequently, it is in that profession that their 
credulity is most extensively abused. But, ila all the pro- 
fessions, the suspicions that haunt the public mind, and 
the credulity that tempts to public abuse, are alike the 
offspring of popular ignorance. Honest men, therefore, of 
all ranks, will, for their own sakes, desire and strive to 
promote the thorough education of the whole people, as 
the only means of allaying suspicions of fraud on the part 
of the public, and removing temptation from the path of 
those who serve that public. 

The 'practicability of educating the whole community, 
seems to be less convincingly before the minds of those 
(44) 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 45 

concerned than the necessity of such education. And yet the 
proof of this proposition is both more conclusive and more 
abundant. What has been done can be repeated ; and in no 
country under heaven are there to be found such facilities 
for universal intelligence amongst the citizens, as in our 
own favored land. Here, a competency can be acquired, 
in the lowest classes, by the well-directed labor of four or 
live days in each week ; and thus, two-sevenths of their 
whole time may be appropriated to intellectual and moral 
improvement. That state of society must add largely to 
the eflects of the curse pronounced upon the rebellion of our 
first parents, which requires the poor man to spend more 
time in earning his bread, than is fairly compatible with 
piety and intelligence. This enterprise, then, if earnestly 
undertaken, must be successful. There are in the commu- 
nity abundant resources, both physical and moral, for the 
education of the people — the whole people — to any extent 
that may be found desirable. 

But this can not be effected without effort, and united 
effort. There must be concert between the people and their 
legislators ; between those who are already educated, and 
those who have yet to acquire their education ; between the 
instructors of youth and the parents of the children. 

The object of the present lecture is to point out some of 
the respective and relative duties of teachers and 'parents ; in 
order that they may the more successfully cooperate in their 
mutual work of training to intelligence and virtue the 
future citizens of our happy republic. 

1st. There must be an increase of teachers. Not more than 
thirty pupils ought ordinarily to be committed to the care 
of a single instructor, at any one time. - This ratio must, 
when all our youth shall be in the schools, augment the 
number of teachers beyond that of any other profession, 
or even mechanical employment, in the whole land. 



46 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

It is the duty, therefore, of our young men of liberal edu- 
cation, to till up the ranks of this most respectable (and, we 
trust soon to be respected) of all professions, the profession 
of teaching. It is the duty of those already engaged in 
this profession, resolutely to decline all offers of patronage 
that would involve the necessity of dividing their attention 
between a greater number of pupils than they can thor- 
oughly instruct. And, as interest and duty are, in the 
moral government of God, inseparably connected, those 
who engage in the business of instruction, with a capable 
facility, can not fail of employment, and a competent 
support. 

In the business of instruction, where is the professional 
teacher, much less an adequate supply of professional 
teachers, to be found? This field of enterprise, if not 
new, is certainly almost unoccupied. No where else can 
talents and learning and worth find such certain and prof- 
itable investment. 

But if it were not even so, still it would be the duty of 
teachers to persevere ; and of those who are competent to 
teach, to commence and persevere until the ranks should 
be filled up, and the public compelled, by the force of truth 
and experiment, to award to the faithful and competent 
instructor of youth the honor and maintenance which are 
his due. The work must be done. The existence of our 
institutions depends upon it. The people have been com- 
plaining (and they have had cause to complain) that teach- 
ers were not worthy of their patronage; and the teachers 
have, in turn, complained that their compensation was not 
equal to their toil ; and these complaints have been but 
too lamentably just. But, fellow-teachers, crimination and 
recrimination will not reform the abuse. Grant that our 
compensation has not been equal to our pains : is there any 
better way to liberalize our patrons than by doing our 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 47 

work faithfully, and on more patriotic principles? But, 
fellow-teachers, we are not to depend upon the mere fee for 
tuition as even our ^pecuniary reward. Our profession has 
a rare felicity in this respect — that while others find em- 
ployment from the miseries and vices of mankind, our 
gain, both in the extent and profit of the employment 
which we receive, will be in proportion to our success in 
diftusing through the community a love of learning, and 
an adherence to sound morals and true religion. The 
more intelligence is diffused through the community, the 
more will the desire to improve be increased. And in 
proportion as the business of instruction is understood, will 
impossibilities cease to be expected of the instructor. Be- 
sides, the eflPect of correct knowledge, in promoting the 
general prosperity of society, and in enhancing the 
value of property already acquired, must secure for the 
teacher, as a member of the community, an adequate, 
though sometimes protracted, reward for his labor aud his 
time. It is knowledge that prompts to enterprise and 
devises plans for the general good. It is knowledge that 
renders available facilities for the accumulation of prop- 
erty, and the suppression of expensive crime. 

It is knowledge, and morality — the oftspring of knowl- 
edge — that alone can give general prosperity to society, 
and thus benefit all, and, consequently, the school-master, 
whose business it is to promote both knowledge and moral- 
ity in his ofiicial capacity. It is our duty, then, fellow- 
teachers, and we rejoice to add, our privilege, to labor 
assiduously in our vocation — a vocation which, though it 
might receive no direct reward, must compensate us, by the 
general prosperity which it cannot but promote, and with 
the least possible tendency to selfishness, because it is in 
common with all our fellow-citizens. 

2d. In the former topic we deduced our interest from 



48 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

our duty ; in tins let us learn our duty in the light of our 
interest. We may know what we ought to do, when we 
have learned what is rightly expected of us. 

The faithful and competent teacher never fails to secure 
the confidence, respect, and even afiection of his pupils. 
He is, as he ought to be, esteemed " in place of a parent." 
He is thought to be infallible. He mglit, therefore, to be 
correct. He is esteemed as possessing the whole cyclopedia 
of knowledge. He ought, therefore, to be a man of exten- 
sive acquaintance with the principles of science. He is 
thought by the confiding pupil to be incapable of any 
measure, or even intention, at variance with honest views 
of promoting the best interests of those intrusted to his 
care. And he ought, accordingly, to enlist all his energies 
in promoting the solid improvement and moral growth of 
every mind submitted to his influence. 

Nor does his influence stop here. We go out into the 
world, and retain our school-house impressions of our 
former instructor. No matter what may be our mental 
superiority or subsequent acquisition, we still think of our 
former school-master as the same great man which, rela- 
tively to ourselves, he was in the period of our novitiate. 
And from this, fellow-teachers, our duty is clear. We 
ought, as far as possible, to continue through the whole 
period of our lives as far in advance of those who were 
once our pupils, as we were found to be upon their introduc- 
tion to us. The same proportion can not be preserved — 
but the same distance in advance may. I am not twice as 
old as you, who are more than half my age ; but I shall 
always continue as many years older than you as I was at 
first. The more we know, the more rapidly can we acquire. 
Why, then, is our improvement less in riper years than it was 
in youth ? Obviously, because our industry has declined, or 
our attention to the business of our profession has become 



DLTJES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 49 

relaxed. The experience of individuals alone can increase 
the knowledge of mankind. He, therefore, who is faithful 
to himself, will, while he contributes to the general im- 
provement of the species, by his own accurate observation, 
be able, by the same means, to avail himself of all the 
advantage of the general stock of information to which he 
is a contributor. 

Here are two men, equally ardent in their pursuit, of 
useful discoveries. The one has knowledge enough to fit 
him to become the instructor of the other ; and they are 
about equal in strength and capacity of mind. Which do 
you suppose will most likely succeed in making discoveries? 
The one, undoubtedly (other things being equal ) who has 
the most knowledge. If we were unacquainted with their 
relative acquisitions, we should feel safe to infer, as a 
general result, that he who succeeded best must necessa- 
rily knoAv most. " Knowledge is power ;" and in proportion 
to the efficiency, so will be the effect, wherever that power 
is applied. Why, then, should old men fall behind the age 
in Avhich they live ? And of all old men, aged teachers are 
most inexcusable for this, which so fpequently happens. 

The expectation, then, that teachers will continue to 
improve, is a rational one — nay, almost instinctively 
rational ; and we are bound, therefore, to verify it by our 
industry. We, fellow-teachers, must mold the opinion of 
society, especially on all subjects connected with education. 
I say must because, from the nature of the case, we can 
not avoid it, if we would. The future opinions, plans, and 
enterprises of our pupils, on these subjects, will be not 
only tinged, but characterized, if not created, by our influ- 
ence upon their forming minds. All that they shall here- 
after think will, in a great measure, be the results of what 
we have previously thought and inculcated. With us rests 
the tremendous responsibility of laying the foundation of 
5 



50 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

a nation's literature, of saying what shall be its future 
character for morality and religion. 

The foundation can be laid but once. The character of 
the superstructure does not depend so much upon those 
who shall complete the edifice, as upon us, who are called 
upon to lay the corner-stone. Let us, then, divest our- 
selves of all selfish views ; of every narrow prejudice ; of 
every local preference ; and of the whole class of tempo- 
rary expedients, and come up to the work with a zeal, a 
devotedness, and perseverance, worthy of so good a cause. 
Let us remember, too, that when those who are now our 
pupils shall have become the legislators and governors of 
the republic — when they shall have devised means, raised 
funds, organized colleges, and founded universities, and are 
lookino: out for those to whose care these institutions shall 
be intrusted, their attention will most likely be directed 
to us, their former instructors. This will be both natural 
and just. All these their doings will, we have said, take 
their character from our former instructions. Who, then, 
so suitable to carry into effect those principles and plans, as 
those with whom they have virtually originated ? But in 
order to this, we must never sleep at our post ; we must 
continue to improve ; we must add the experience of yes- 
terday to that of to-day, and the experience of both to the 
business of to-morrow. 

We must accumulate the experience of the whole profes- 
sion in the person of each individual, and personally add 
to the stock from which we so largely borrow. We must 
study the human mind, and watch it, in all its varieties of 
development and growth. We must become scientific and 
not empirical teachers, who shall know how to give perma- 
nent direction to the public mind ; and not content ourselves 
with that evanescent or erroneous impression which disap- 
pears of itself, or requires to be efi'aced, to make room for 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 51 

that which shall be both more correct and more enduring. 
If we become dilatory, and cease to improve, we shall be 
guilty of alternately defeating those very plans which, 
through our earlier pupils, we have ourselves matured. 
For, that we shall not be permitted (or be inclined) to 
retire, is demonstrated by facts. Most of our presidents 
of colleges have been called to these present places of 
honor and trust by their former pupils. Many of the 
professors in our literary institutions have been selected, 
by intelligent men of other professions, from among those 
to whom they recited in the log school-house, or the but 
little more pretending academy. And it will, because it 
must, continue to be so. Illy qualified for promotion, as 
most of our profession may be found to be, still, our expe- 
rience, in despite of Our indolence, gives us a decided 
advantage over gentlemen of any profession, in the man- 
agement of literary institutions. Few instances are on 
record of gentlemen taken from the bar, or the pulpit, or 
the profession of medicine, that have succeeded as the 
presidents of colleges or universities ; and fewer still are 
the recorded instances of teaching professors (for any one 
may compile and read lectures), who have not found their 
way to the professor's chair through all the grades of 
elementary instruction, up 'from the "common school.'' 
Let us take special care, then, to acquire the skill which 
shall be requisite to cultivate, in its approaching maturity, 
that tree of science, which we ourselves are planting, and 
which, if left by us, must be abandoned to still less skilful 
hands. 

3. In the preceding remarks, we have noticed duties 
that are less relative than those which remain to be men- 
tioned. But here, as before, we may discover our duty, 
fellow-teachers, from the trust reposed in us. Parents 
commit to us their richest treasures, their dearest hopes. 



52 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

Ill this they are too exclusive ; but their fault can not 
lessen our responsibility. It rather increases it. We have 
the formation of character committed to us. The intel- 
lectual habits of our pupils will be very much as we form 
them. Their modes of thought, their principles of taste, 
their habitude of feeling, will all take their complexion, if 
not their character, from our methods of training the 
mind. Who, then, can enter the class-room without trem- 
bling. Where is the spirit stout enough to try experiments 
upon an immortal mind ? No man is fit to teach who does 
not understand human nature ; nor will an empirical knowl- 
edge of the mind suffice. Principles and experiment must go 
together. Theory without practice will be mischievous ; and 
practice without theory must, of course, be at random. 

We owe it, then, to our pupils, and to their parents, 
thoroughly to understand what we profess to teach ; for 
who can communicate intelligibly to another that which he 
himself does not clearly comprehend? That man is a 
swindler of the worst description, who " procures, upon 
false pretences," the intellectual wealth of the community, 
and submits to, he cares not what, venturous process, for 
his own paltry and sordid gain. The fraudulent merchant 
destroys but the fortunes of those whom he plunders ; 
but the incompetent teacher ruins the immortal mind, 
which is of more value than all temporal riches. 

Nor is it enough once to have understood what we profess 
to teach. We must constantly review our studies. This 
is necessary in order to promptness of explanation, without 
which much time must be lost to our pupils, and sluggish 
habits of mental action unavoidably induced upon both us 
and them. We should be master of our subject — familiar 
with its details — clear in our explanations — rapid in our 
mental movements — glowing in our conceptions of truth — 
impassioned in our admiration of its beauty — and incessant 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 53 

in our endeavors to produce the same results on the minds 
of our pupils. 

But the most difficult part of a teacher's duty arises 
from the great variety of intellectual and moral character 
found amongst his numerous pupils. No two minds are 
alike in all their powers and susceptibilities. Every mind, 
therefore, requires a mode of treatment somewhat different 
from that which is suitable for any other mind : and here, 
both the skill and the honesty of the teacher are put to 
the test. Every new pupil is not only a new lesson, but a 
new BOOK, which the teacher must study ! and a book, too, 
in which new pages are continually unfolding, which require 
a new analysis, and frequently compelling a change of 
estimate, and consequently a change of procedure, in 
regard to the whole matter. In such cases, fellow-teachers, 
it is feared that ability, sometimes, and industry, much 
more frequently, may fail. Let us be on our guard here. 
Let not temptation of a higher fee induce us to advance a 
pupil to higher studies, for which he is not prepared. Let 
not our indolence prevail with us, to class others with those 
who are obviously their inferiors in either talents or ac- 
quirements, much less in both, that we may thus lighten 
our own labors at the expense of their improvement and 
"mental training." Let not our misjudging desire for 
popularity or patronage, ever suggest the thought of low- 
ering the standard of education in our public institutions. 
Such conduct is not only dishonest in public teachers, but 
clearly impolitic. A " short course " can be a recommenda- 
tion only to short-sighted judges, whether pupils or parents. 
Those are certainly enemies to the dearest interests of their 
country, whether intentionally or not, who erect depositories 
for intellectual chaff; scrape together that which has not 
substance enough to abide the siftings and winnowings of 
a thorough education, nor weight enough to find its proper 



i'A DL'TIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

level when separated from the purer mass; manufacture 
it by some new but patent process, w^hich requires but 
little time and less labor, though frequently at great 
expense to the owners ; and then throw it into market, 
bearing falsely the brand of a genuine article, to the 
defrauding of an unsuspecting public, and the ultimate 
disparagement of all sound education. Nor can any 
censure too severe be passed upon that instructor, who can, 
for the sake of popularity, or any such motive, lower the 
standard or relax the discipline of a coordinate department 
in a college or university, or of either a coordinate or 
subordinate school, or department in a school, connected 
with our general system of education. 

Let us, then, be honest with ourselves ; honest with our 
pupils; honest with their parents, and honest with the 
public. Let us not drive a pupil too fast, and thus destroy 
the vigor and energy of his mental action. Let us not 
check the natural activity of his thought, and thus induce 
a habit of mental inoping, alike unfriendly to accuracy and 
dispatch, whether in acquisition or execution. Let us not 
flatter our patrons, that their children are capable of pro- 
fessions for which nature never intended them. Let us be 
careful never to inculcate any doubtful principle of morality 
or religion ; or to recommend, by precept or example, any 
wrong, or even equivocal sentiment of feeling. 

We may — nay, we must — have our own speculative 
opinions — hypotheses in morals, w^hich we have not yet 
been able either to verify or disprove by inductive expe- 
rience. But in this state, fellow-teachers, let them never 
once be named in our schools, nor let them begin to influ- 
ence our conduct as practical teachers. The intellectual 
and moral character of our pupils is too valuable to be 
made the subject of rash and hazardous experiment. 

The Christian religion is the religion of our country 



DUTIES 0F TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 55 

From it are derived our prevalent notions of the character 
of God, the great moral Governor of the universe. On its 
doctrines are founded the peculiarities of our free institu- 
tions. From its sanctions are derived the oblis^ations to 
veracity imposed in the administration of justice. In its 
revelations are found the only certain grounds of hope in 
reference to that else unknown future, which lies beyond 
the horizon of time. It alone places a guard over the 
conscience, which never slumbers, and whose eye can not 
be evaded by any address of the delinquent. Its maxims, 
its precepts, its sentiments, and even its very spirit, have 
become so incorporated with the mind and soul of civiliza- 
tion and all refinement, that it can not be eradicated, or 
even opposed, without imminent hazard of all that is beau- 
tiful, lovely and valuable, in the arts, in science, and in 
society. 

Let us, then, fellow-teachers, avoid, on the one hand, the 
inculcation of all sectarian peculiarities in religion ; and on 
the other, let us beware of incurring the charge (which 
w^ill not fail to be made, and justly made) of being- 
enemies to our country's quiet, by teaching to our pupils 
the crude notions and revolutionary principles of modern 
infidelity. It is, at best, but an unsustained hyiMhesis. 

4. The duties that remain to be noticed, in the fourth 
place, as incumbent on teachers, in relation to the parents 
of those who are their pupils, are, if possible more impor- 
tant than any that have yet been noticed. Teachers ought 
to know best how to do that w^hich is required of them ; 
but parents are, or ought to be, better judges as to what is 
to he done. We, fellow-teachers, are the servants of the 
public. We have a deep interest, as has been shown, in 
the results of our own labors, in their effects upon public 
prosperity and national character. But, much as we love, 
and ought to love, those committed to our care, they are but 



56 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

our pupils, not our children. This last relation is one 
which can be constituted only by the Author of our being. 
All attempts artificially to form it, must end in compara- 
tive defeat. None but the natural parent can feel that 
natural affection which is adequate to the duties of jproferly 
educating an immortal mind. 

Our duties, then, paradoxical as it may seem, are only 
subordinate in that very business which we pursue as a 
profession. The teacher, I repeat, should know better 
than any other man, how to produce a given result in 
mental training ; but the parent, who is the natural guar- 
dian, or in want of parents, the authorized adviser, alone 
has a right to say what that result, which is attempted, 
shall be. 

We may and ought to advise with our friends as to the 
best methods of accomplishing their wishes in the educa- 
tion of their children. But there our jurisdiction ends. 
We have, as teachers, no right to dictate ; and we ought to 
use the most constant caution and vigilance, not to impair 
that sacred attachment to the persons, and respect for the 
character of parents and guardians, which, to the credit of 
human nature, generally do, as they always ought, charac- 
terize the unsophisticated mind of youth. 

Let us, then, pursue such a course as shall be most likely 
to interest parents in the progress as well as the results of 
our labors. Let us encourage them to visit our schools — 
to take part in the examination of our scholars, but their 
own children. Let us refuse those whose parents will not 
cooperate with us, or who decline giving a specific view 
of what they wish us to accomplish in behalf of their chil- 
dren. Let us, like the mechanic, insist upon definite 
instructions as to what is to be done ; and then, like him, 
let us throw ourselves upon our skill, and the intelligence 
of our patrons, for our character and our reward. 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 57 

The second general division of our subject is, the duties 
incumbent on parents, in the business of education. 

And here, as in the first division of this discourse, 1 
have the pleasure to rank with those whom I address. I 
have long been a teacher, and expect to remain in tbe 
profession for life. But I am also a parent, who has cbil- 
dren to educate, and may therefore be supposed to feel, in 
some degree at least, the importance of those duties 
which I venture to urge upon my fellow-citizens. 

As, in the preceding remarks, the duties of teachers 
have been shown to be subordinate to those of parents ; so 
in what is to follow, I wish the paramount importance of 
the parent's interests and the parent's duties to be kept 
distinctly before us. We who are parents are the employ- 
ers — teachers, our assistants, in the all responsible business 
of training up the future governors of this republic, who 
are to give character to the world, and to form characters 
for eternity. 

1. In the first place, we must provide suitable accom- 
modations for our schools. Children can not learn when 
uncomfortable ; and they can not be comfortable, either 
in cold weather or in hot, unless the school-house or recita- 
tion room be such as can be both warmed and ventilated, 
as occasion may require. How much time and money, and 
that vvdiich is more valuable than both time and money — I 
mean mind — is wasted, simply for the want of suitable 
buildings for schools ? Nor is mere convenience, of itself, 
sufiicient. Children are creatures of association and habit ; 
and much depends upon the cheerfulness and taste of that 
which is connected with their early mental efforts, as to 
whether . they shall become attached to study, and take a 
delight in thought, or shall contract a disgust for every 
thing like literature and science. Time was, when the log 
school-house, Aviih gable-end chimney, clap-board door, and 



58 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

long, narrow windows, papered and greased, was all that 
could be looked for in a country that was still a wilderness. 
But that time is now passed ; and yet, even these cabin 
colleges were often more comfortable and better conducted 
than some of our public schools at the present day. It 
must make the heart of philanthropy bleed, to see the 
youth of our country so frequently collected (when in school 
at all) in uncomfortable and even filthy, hovels,''-^ in which 
the farmers of the neighborhood would hardly consent to 
house their sheep ; surrounded by every thing calculated 
to disgust them with learning, and to make them loathe 
even the sight of a slate or a book; but, on the other 
hand, in contact, as if by design, with whatever can minis- 
ter to grossness of sentiment, confusion of thought, and 
ferocity of character. And all this for want of such accom- 
modations as could be procured for a less sum than one 
half of that which those most intimately concerned are 
known to expend upon that which is worse than useless. I 
make these remarks with the greater freedom, because 
they are generally known to be true, and because, from the 
enterprise of this city (Cincinnati) they can not be con- 
strued as conveying any reproof to those who constitute 
the present audience. And yet, the newly-painted spires 
of your public school-houses, and other literary edifices, 
seem to imply, fellow-citizens, that it is but recently since 
the spirit of improvement commenced its work even 
among you. But the extent of that work, in so short a 
time, is the more honorable to the enterprise that has 
accomplished it. 

2. The next duty devolving upon parents, in relation to 
teachers, is to furnish them with suitable tools, with which 



* There has been great improvement in school-houses since this lecture 
was delivered. — Eds. 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 59 

to work. They must, we have seen, have comfortable 
sliops — a school-house is the teacher's shop — but this will 
not avail, unless those shops be furnished. We must fur- 
nish, or compensate the teachers for furnishing, uniform sets 
of suitable class books. No teacher can instruct success- 
fully when the variety of books is nearly equal to the 
whole number of scholars. Every thing that saves time 
to the teacher must benefit the school ; and nothing is more 
desirable to a conscientious instructor than to be able to 
devote a large portion of his time to every individual under 
his care. But this can not be done without careful classi- 
fication, which classification is impossible without a uniform- 
ity of class books. As we value the improvement of our 
children then, we ought not only to permit, but to encour- 
age, the instructors whom we employ to introduce as rigid 
a system of classification and as great a uniformity of 
books into the schools as possible. But still more than 
books and classifying is needed to furnish a school-room. 
Our teachers must have maps and globes, and a variety of 
apparatus, suitable to illustrate these branches of knowl- 
edge, which we expect our children to learn. But the 
compensation which we ordinarily allow them is not sufld- 
cient to warrant or enable them to procure these articles 
at their own cost. We must furnish them ; and in doing 
so, we shall be the gainers. Our children will learn more 
rapidly, understand more clearly what they do learn, and 
retain with more permanency and greater accuracy the 
principles of those practical sciences, which even a school 
apparatus is suflScient to illustrate. 

3. But, to keep up the figure of a shop, it is not enough 
that our teachers have tools ; they must also have stock, or 
the raw material upon which these tools are to be em- 
ployed, and their skill expended. This material parents 
are to furnish ; and it is of vast importance to success in 



60 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

the result, that it be of the right kind. Children receive 
their characters from the preponderant impressions to which 
they are habitually exposed. Thus their characters will 
be formed within the domestic circle. Teachers can do 
but little to alter the tendencies of that almost uninter- 
rupted intluence exerted upon young minds by the example 
of parents, domestics, aiid friends. Nay, it has before 
been shown that it was not the province of the teacher to 
oppose what must be presumed to be the deliberate 
arrangement of the family circle in relation to children. 
Teachers must not only take children as they are, but 
must permit them to remain as they were in the respects 
just noticed. For where is the parent that will patiently 
permit any teacher to obliterate those impressions, or change 
those characteristics, or to interfere with the formation of 
those habits in his children, which he has been so solicitous 
to secure ? For I can not, I will not, suppose that there is 
a single parent who hears me, that is so ignorant of the 
facts, or so regardless of the consequences just stated, as 
not to give all possible attention to the arrangement of 
every part of his domestic relations, in reference to its 
influence upon the education, and consequently upon the 
character of the children belonging to the family. 

We, then, who are parents must, from the constitution 
of society, form and sustain the character, intellectual and 
moral, of those who reside under our roof. The teacher 
can not do it without our aid, nor ought he to be permitted 
to do it w^ithout our cooperation. We must lay the foun- 
dation ; he may help us build. We must furnish the 
materials ; he may fit and adjust them — but only under our 
direction and supervision. The teacher may and will 
exert an incalculable influence upon the minds of his 
pupils, and, through them, on society. But parents are 
responsible for a great part even of that ; because it will 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 61 

be modified by their superior and antecedent influence. 
The result will be different, and something more than 
would follow from parental education alone — or else the 
employment of teachers would be useless. But it never 
can be much different, in kind or degree, from the general 
character of that influence which is exerted by the specific 
circumst/ances of the domestic fire-side. 

What, then, is our duty in this business? We shall 
best answer the question by ascertaining what are the 
cliief hindrances to success in our own attempts to commu- 
nicate information to the infant mind. We will not stop 
to enumerate, much less to classify, these hindrances here. 
We shall take for granted that they are familiar, and dis- 
tinctly recognized by all, as they must be, by every parent 
who has done his duty in the instruction of his family. 
These we must labor to remove, as much as possible, out 
of the way of the teacher. We must, as far as practicable, 
so arrange matters at home, that our children may come 
into the hand of the school-master docile, ingenuous, affec- 
tionate, intelligent, honorable, magnanimous, rational, 
conscientious, and pious children. These are the funda- 
mental elements of a right character, and not one of them 
can be dispensed with in the very commencement of a 
school education. Or if there is one, which one will any 
father or mother in this audience designate to be excluded? 
or which one would any parent be willing, were it possible, 
should spring up in the mind of the child under the fos- 
tering care of any hand but his own? Where is the 
mother that would not resent the imputation that her child 
had grown old enough to attend school without her having 
cherished or implanted in its opening mind one, and every 
one, of the principles above enumerated ? I know it was 
once objected that piety was not compatible with the infant 
mind. But the author of the only true religion ever 



62 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

professed by men was of a different opinion. He recog- 
nized in the minds of "little children" something so like to 
piety in the adult mind, that he made the former a test 
of the genuineness of the latter. "Except ye be con- 
verted, and become as little eliildren, ye shall not enter into 
the kingdom of heaven." Piety is right sentiments 
toward supreme excellence; and would not the parent 
who should discourage that run an awful risk of obliterating 
all right sentiments in relation to every species of moral 
excellence? How could he, after this, hope to maintain 
his authority as a father, or command the respect of his 
child? 

But it may be said that these are the traits of an edu- 
cated mind, and instruction has become useless where 
these principles exist. It is admitted that education, 
neither purchased, nor domestic can implant such princi- 
ples — piety for example. But some of the above traits 
are habits; and all require to be cherished at first by a 
parentis hand; and if they are not, it will be little less 
than miraculous, should they survive the rude culture and 
the chilling atmosphere of public instruction in its best 
forms. They can be cherished at home. They are suc- 
cessfully cherished in many families. But we might chal- 
lenge the world to produce even a few instances where 
they have been successfully cultivated in any other field. 

Let me not be misunderstood. I do not say that any 
principle can be implanted by education. Piety is the 
result of divine agency, but may be cherished by human 
means. All I contend for here is, that the fundamental 
elements of character can not be so well, if at all, developed 
anywhere else as in the family, nor by any other hand 
so appropriately as by that of a parent. Infant piety, 
youthful ingenuousness, and juvenile honor, are of too 
delicate a texture to bear an early transplanting into our 



DUTIES OP TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 6S 

public scliools — even tliose which are under the host possible 
regulations. 

Let us then, who are parents, prepare our children for 
the school, bj training them to think by means of rational 
conversation ; by cherishing honesty of character, through a 
proper treatment of their natural ingenuousness : by culti- 
vatmg in them a respect for all that is valuable, and 
praiseworthy in human character around them ; by teach- 
ing them a rational subordination to just authority, as 
connected with intelligence, superior to their own, and an 
undoubted intention to promote their interests ; by encourag- 
ing them to examine into the grounds of even authoritative 
injunctions, not that they may find reasons to disobey, but 
that they may obey more intelligently ; by showing, what we 
must be careful honestly to feel, a uniform respect for 
those whom we employ, to assist us in the business of 
educating those minds, which God has intrusted to our 
care — and thus exciting in their minds that respect and 
confidence toward these instructors, which is ever found 
indispensable in the business of instruction. How incon- 
sistently some parents are found to act in this matter ! It 
is inconsistent to employ as an instructor a person whom 
we can not respect ; and even if this should happen through 
mistake, it is highly injudicious to manifest disrespect 
toward their teacher, in the presence of our children, until 
we are fully prepared to remove them from his care. 
Parents are commendably careful not to marry their 
daughters to unworthy men. But why should we not be 
equally careful, not to commit either our sons, or our 
daughters, to the care disreputable teachers? Will it be 
said that the former connection is for life ; the latter but 
temporary ? I reply, the influence of the former is upon 
happiness only — that of the latter upon character first and 
subsequently upon happiness. 



64 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

We owe it as a duty to the whole profession of teachers, 
to discourage every thing in them that is w^rong, by 
resolutely refusing to employ, at any price, those who are 
not of reputable character ; and to encourage whatever is 
commendable, by showing equal respect for virtue and excel- 
lence in that profession, as to that in any other. We owe 
it moreover, to teachers, and to the public, not to send to an 
institution of learning, a young man of insubordinate tem- 
per, or bad moral character. How often are both teachers 
and students in our public seminaries, most grossly imposed 
upon, by the stealthy introduction of such young men as 
never ought to have been admitted into any public institu- 
tion, unless perhaps it w^re a penitentiary. Schools and 
colleges are not houses of correction. They were intended 
to educate ; not to reform young men. But these are our 
own sons, and we are anxious to reclaim them. Very well. 
And so are all our friends, and the public. But this gives 
us no right to jeopard the morals of others, from the very 
slight prospect of good to our own unfortunate children. 
The risk of increasing, or at least spreading the moral 
contagion, is much toogreatto warrant any judicious, much 
less conscientious man, so to offend against the morals of 
his country, as to cast poison into the fountains of science. 
The whole community would unite in reprobating the man 
who should introduce the cholera into an institution of 
learning, induced by the hope of recovering the patient 
infected, even though that patient were an only son. But 
to introduce a moral jyestilence is still worse than this. 

4. The last class of duties devolving on parents in rela- 
tion to teachers, must be briefly discussed for the present. 
It has been frequently hinted in the progress of the lecture, 
that the business of instruction was a joint concern, of the 
teacher and the parent. The part which the parent must 
take in it throughout, comes now to be noticed, in its most 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 65 

imporfcaiit aspect. And that is, fellow-citizens, we must 
ourselves be the prominent and persevering teachers of our 
children, during the whole period in which their characters 
are forming. We must subordinate every other concern to 
that. We must not leave it to hired help. We must not 
permit either business or pleasure, or even other duties, 
(none can be paramount,) to interfere with this class of 
oblio'ations. We must not allow anv man to dictate to us 
in the course which we pursue : nor must we ever lose sight 
of the actual engagements which employ our children from 
day to day. 

We must here, as in other business, superintend at least 
the whole concern, or it will not succeed. Let us decide 
wliat our children are to learn — procure for them suitable 
accommodations, books and apparatus — employ for their 
benefit the ablest instructors — and then keep our eye con- 
stantly upon them, their progress, and their instruction — 
encourage their despondency — repress their waywardness — 
show an interest in their studies, or we may be assured 
they will not. In a word, let us post up, every day, the 
whole concern, that we may have it under our eye, and let 
all concerned know that it is so. 

It is objected, that we have not time, thus to attend to 
the education of our children, in person. The answer is, 
we have as much time to spare from business as our chil- 
dren have from amusement and healthful exercise. But 
if time be wanting, then let us employ assistants in our 
other avocations. Why should ladies fear to trust the 
management of household affairs to the exclusive care of 
servants, while they make no scruple of abandoning the 
education of their daughters to those who are not, or are 
not known to be, any better qualified for their task, than 
servants are for theirs? Why should fathers consider it 
indispensable to superintend in person the concerns of 
6 



66 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

tlieir farms or their shops, or their merchandise ; while 
they wholly neglect the proceedings of the school, to which 
are sent those sons for whom they are thus laboring ? If 
we want leisure, let us employ more help in every depart- 
ment of our business ; but let us not be seduced, nor with- 
held by any engagements, from carefully accompanying 
our children on the thorny path of elementary acquisi- 
tion. 

But we are ourselves ignorant of many things which we 
wish our children to learn ; and in these we may be excused 
from accompanying them. If tliey are valuable acquisi- 
tions, and useful in life, (and children should not be doom- 
ed to study any thing of a different character,) our igno- 
rance furnishes an additional motive why we should accom- 
pany our children in these very studies. We can hardly 
claim respect for our opinions from those who are confess- 
edly wiser than ourselves. We ought therefore, in defense 
of our authority, to keep pace with the improvements in 
school education. Besides, we can hardly hope that our 
children will be much interested in those studies which 
they are aware we are ignorant of, unless we show suf- 
ficient interest to be willing yet to attend to them. If, 
when they come to us with a difficulty, which they have 
met in their lesson, we put them off, with a declaration 
that either we do not understand, or do not care about 
what they are studying, can we be surprised, or blame 
them if they show but little farther concern in the matter ? 
But even if it should prove impracticable (which I believe 
it will do only through indolence) to learn what our chil- 
dren are learning, though we may not have acquired it 
before, still we can show an interest in their studies like 
that of the heathen mother, who, though she could not 
read, yet required her son to read to her his daily lesson 
at the school, and judged of his proficiency, as she could, 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AXD PARENTS. Q7 

by general appearances, so that she correctly applauded 
his industry and rebuked his indolence, as they respective- 
ly occurred. Your speaker has seen the grandfather of 
eighty years induced to look into a geography, in order to 
correct in his little grandson that glaring heresy of modern 
times, that the earth turns round on its axis; and after pro- 
nouncing the assertions of the little philosopher " nonsense^ 
"silly nonsense,'^ become interested in the child's artless 
defense of his book, and finally to take lessons from his 
pupil, and become a companion of hi^ studies hv months 
together. The results -u'ere valuable. They showed that 
an aged man, in the midst of business engagements, 
could learn a new science ; and that the effects of such a 
companionship were most salutary upon the mind of the 
child. That child was my pupil, and far surpassed his 
classmates from the time he took his grandfather into 
partnership in his studies. 

Every intelligent teacher will expect success, just in pro- 
portion as he can induce parents to take an interest in the 
business which he conducts, but which they must superin- 
tend. Let parents then be the instructors of their own 
children, employing all the assistance they may need or 
desire ; but never resigning the business into the hands of 
another. 

It must be obvious, from the foregoing remarks, that 
children and youth ought to be kept under the parental 
roof, during the period of their elementary education ; and 
the experience of public teachers abundantly confirms the 
remark. A very large proportion of those who leave their 
parental home before their characters are pretty well con- 
firmed, are more or less injured, and many of them ruined, 
by their residence at even our most respectable public 
schools. 

How can it be otherwise ? Who is to w^atch over the 



68 DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 

daily conduct of the stranger student? His instructors can 
not do it ; and if tliey are honest men, they will not engage 
to do that which they know is, from the nature of the case, 
im practicable . The young man is, in a great degree, cut 
off from the restraints of society, the advice of friends, and 
the protection of parents. He is exposed to the excitement 
of a hundred companions, who, like himself, are deprived of 
the ordinary amusements found in social life, and left to 
expend that buoyancy of spirit which even the severest 
study can not always suppress, in boisterous mirth, or acts 
of mischief. 

His steps are watched by the unprincipled and design- 
ing, who take advantage of the excellencies of his gener- 
ous nature, to lead him into vice, for their own sordid gain. 
And often, alas too often, all that remains, after the period 
of education has elapsed, is the wreck of what was once a 
noble spirit, but now fallen. 

How poor a compensation is a little knowledge for the 
loss of moral excellence ? How pitiful the acquisition of 
mental dexterity, at the expense of all correct habits. 
Teachers may instruct, but society must educate. And 
what society can be compared with that which is enjoyed 
around a father's table, and under the domestic roof ? No 
responsibilities are more reluctantly assumed, or more 
painfully regretted, than those which are imposed upon the 
officers of literary institutions in the west, by the absurd 
practice of sending sucklings to college. We must then 
have schools within the reach of every family, sufficient to 
give to the son of every American citizen an education 
that shall enable him to discharge the highest duties to 
which his fellow-citizens may appoint him ; and to the 
daughters of every American mother, such an one as shall 
fit her to become the wife and mother of freemen. 

Fellow-citizens, my thoughts, on this subject, are now 



DUTIES OF TEACHERS AND PARENTS. 69 

before you. The importance of the topics discussed, must 
be my apology for the length of the lecture. Let teachers 
fill up the ranks of the profession ; let them trust to the 
inevitable effects of their well directed labors, for their 
reward ; let them be careful to improve as society advances ; 
and let them be content with their subordination to par- 
ents, as the only effectual means of bringing every power 
of society into requisition in the business of universal 
education. 

And, on the other hand, let parents come up to the work 
as they ought. Let them provide suitable houses, suitable 
books, suitable apparatus, and suitable instructors for the 
benefit of their children ; and all this within reach of their 
own homes. And let them be careful to cherish in their chil- 
dren those traits of character that will make them at once 
active and docile, respectful and persevering. And, in addi- 
tion to all this, let them, as they would discharge the high 
responsibility that heaven has laid upon them, accompany 
their children through all their studies, and, in person, 
superintend the whole process of their mental, moral, and 
religious training. And, through the blessing of Heaven, 
the result will be as they could wish. " Train up a child 
in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not 
depart from it," — is a declaration that never has, and 
never will be falsified. It is the declaration of Eternal 
Truth. 



DISCIPLINE. 

BT DANIEL DEAKE.M.D. 



The universe is an empire, and God is its sovereign. It 
consists of masses of matter suspended in space, one of which 
is our earth. Of the others, we know very little from 
observation ; but, relying on several ascertained analogies, 
presume that in their intimate structure they may not 
be unlike our own. In it we observe two great divisions, 
the mineral, and the organized or living kingdoms. Pas- 
sing by the former, we find the latter divisible into two 
classes, vegetable and animal ; the last of which may be 
subdivided into two orders, the inferior animals and the 
human race. Thus we know that our globe comprehends 
and sustains an innumerable variety of bodies. 

The different objects which compose the universe, are not 
at rest, nor do they remain in the same relation. Motion 
is the condition in which most of those on the earth's sur- 
face exist ; the mass itself is in motion, and even the sun 
turns on its axis ; the other planets of the solar system, 
have the same movements with ours. It is even probable 
that the constellation to which our sun belongs, has a progres- 
sive motion in the heavens ; and, if this is the fact, we may 
suppose the whole, the entire universe, in action. Such 
being the probability, and in reference to our earth and its 
(70) 



I 



DISCIPLINE. 71 

productions, the actual fact, it follows, that a state of chaos 
would sooner or later arise, unless these complicated move- 
ments were made on some kind of system. But the experi- 
ence of the human race in past times, and every day's 
observation, convince us, that disorder is not the conse- 
quence of this action, and, of course, there must be laws of 
motion ; and we believe that God, who made the worlds 
and all who inhabit them, is the great law-giver. To regu- 
late the revolutions of the planets, he has enacted laws ; to 
guide the actions of atoms of matter on other atoms, he 
has made other laws ; to direct the arrangement of those 
atoms in organized bodies, he has establislied other laws ; 
and, lastly, to govern man,he has made others, which refer 
both to his mind and body. Thus, every movement, from 
that of a satellite round the earth, to the revolution of the 
sun on his axis ; from the rise and fall of a particle of dust, 
or the growth of a blade of grass, to the voluntary actions 
of man himself, is regulated by laws, which God only can 
modify or repeal. The government, then, of the entire 
universe, is a government, of laws, and without them it 
would stand still, or speedily run into confusion. 

If such be the fact — and who can deny it ? we come direct- 
ly to the conclusion, that a violation of any of the laws of 
nature is eventually followed by disorder, and this disorder, 
involving as it does or should do, the agent which commits 
it, constitutes the punishment or penalty. Thus, on the 
plan of nature, every violation is punished ; for a law 
without a penalty is a dead letter. Let us apply this reason- 
ing to the human race. 

Was there but one man, it would be necessary to his 
welfare that he should not violate the laws which regulate 
the relations between him and the surrounding elements ; 
for if he did, he would suffer bodily pain, and perhaps per- 
ish. Thus if he exposed himself, unprotected, to the north 



72 DISCIPLINE. 

wind, at midnight in winter, he would be frozen ; or, if he 
walked into the fire, he would be burnt — in both cases, 
receiving the penalty imposed on the violation. While on 
the other hand, if he scrupulously observed the laws which 
regulate the relations between his system and heat and 
and cold, his feelings would be pleasant, and, in that pleas- 
ure he would find the reward of his fidelity to the require- 
ments of his physical nature. 

Again, if we contemplate him associated with others in 
society, and suppose him to violate the laws which are nec- 
essary to its government and well being, we see him doomed 
to suffer a penalty ; while, on the contrary, a strict obser- 
vance of all the regulations of the social compact never 
fails to preserve his peace, and procure for him the reward 
of conscious rectitude, and the approbation and confidence 
of his fellow. Thus, both in the world of matter and the 
world of mind, we find punishment the consequence of vio- 
lation, and reward the beneficial effect of obedience. 

When we come to inquire into the reason of this rela- 
tion between the act and its consequences, we at once per- 
ceive that without it no law would be respected ; and that, 
in the economy of the world, rewards and punishments are 
the appointed means of securing obedience, and maintaining 
the supremacy of those enactments, domestic, social, politi- 
cal, and moral, without which men could not live in each 
other's society. 

Hence, from a survey of the physical and social world, we 
derive a warrant of rewards and punishments, and acquire 
a conviction of their justice and necessity. 

Turning from observation and reasoning, to revelation, 
we are at once confirmed in our conclusions. When God 
gave the first moral commandment in Paradise, he annexed 
to its violation a special punishment — such a one as would 
not have followed from any of the laws of nature — and in 



DISCIPLINE. 78 

all the subsequent revelations of his will, he never failed 
to attach to every rule of conduct both a penalty, and a 
reward. From the first generation, when He avenged the 
murder of Abel, and pronounced upon Cain the dreadful 
malediction — " Thou art cursed upon the earth. When 
thou tillest the ground, it shall not henceforth yield unto 
thee her strength ; a fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou 
be in the earth ''—from the delivery of the commandment 
to little children, " honor thy father and thy mother, that 
thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God 
giveth thee " — from the days when the holy prophet cried 
aloud, with the voice of inspiration : " wash you, make 
yourselves clean ; put away the evil of your doings from 
before mine eyes ; cease to do evil ; learn to do well ; seek 
judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead 
for the widow. Come, now, let us reason together, saith the 
Lord ; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as 
snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as 
wool. If ye be ivilling and obedient, ye shall eat the good 
of the land ; but if ye refme and rebel, ye shall be devoured 
with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it " — 
from the hour when the Saviour pronounced, that the ''Son 
of man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his 
angels ; and then he shall reward every man according to 
his works " — -from the time when one inspired Apostle wrote, 
*' Blessed is the man that endure th temptation ; for, when 
he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the 
Lord hath promised to them that love him," till the last 
added, in the consumation of revelation — " If any man 
take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God 
shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of 
the holy city, and from the things which are written in 
this book," — we find a succession of rewards and punish- 
ments, connecting themselves with all that is dear or dread- 



74 DISCIPLINE. 

ful, both in this world and the world to come ; leaving no 
room to doubt that both are a^opointed means in the plan 
of Providence, for animating men to virtue and deterring 
them from vice ; demonstrating that the measures which 
God employs to secure an observance of the laws of the 
moral world, are, in principle, the same which he has 
provided to maintain the continued dominion of the laws of 
the physical world ; and, finally, establishing the universal 
fact that order and happiness every where flow from obedi- 
ence — disorder and misery from disobedience, to the stat- 
utes which govern the great empire of nature, including 
man. 

Having then the lights, both of reason and revelation, 
to guide us, we possess the highest assurance which the 
human mind can attain, that both rewards and punish- 
ments are not only right, but indispensably necessary ; and 
that in all cases, where, as individuals, it is our right to 
govern, it is our duty, in imitation of Him who ruleth all 
things in wisdom, to punish offenses and reward virtuous 
obedience. And what is the philosophy of this system ? 
One easily understood ; one that he who runs may read. 
It is to associate pain with the transgression, and pleasure 
with the observance of the law. By pain and pleasure 
God governs the whole animal world. In the lower orders 
they are limited to the body— in man, they extend also to 
the soul. God has not required of us the observance of 
any law, without making that obedience a source of pleas- 
ure, corporeal or mental ; nor permitted the violation of 
any, without annexing the penalty of pain, either present 
or prospective. The object and effect of all punishment 
should be, to establish this association of ideas, that when 
the temptation comes, the fear of the punishment we have 
felt may come also, and deter us from the act — and the 
end of every reward should be, to make the resistance of 



DISCIPLINE. 75 

temptation an immediate source of pleasure. As far as we 
can fatlioni this matter, the moral government of the world 
could not be maintained by any other system ; neither pun- 
ishments nor rewards, alone, could accomplish the object. 

Has, then, a parent the right to govern his child? If he 
have, it is his duty to reward and punish it, according to 
the manner in which it acts, under the just and necessary 
rules which he lays down for its government. That he has 
such a right, can not be doubted by any who reflect on the 
relations of parent and child. It results from the depend- 
ence of the latter upon the former ; a dependence as great 
as that of the young scion on its parent root. Here, more- 
over, as in the other branch of our argument, we are not left 
to the lights of our own understanding, for revelation 
throughout recognizes this dependence, and commands, 
what reason and instinct had already made manifest. 

To children it says — "Honor thy father and thy mother.'' 
" This know, also, that in the last days perilous times shall 
come ; for men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, 
boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents.'' "Chil- 
dren, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleas- 
ing unto the Lord." To parents — "Correct thy son, and he 
shall give thee rest : yea, he shall give delight unto thy 
soul." " Fathers provoke not your children to wrath ; but 
bring them up in the nuture and admonition of the Lord." 
Here, then, we have the fullest expression of the Divine 
mind, as to the relative duties of parents and children, and 
find it in perfect accordance with nature. 

But can this right with propriety be delegated to another ? 
It certainly can. The object is not to gratify the parent 
by the exercise of power, but to preserve the child from 
danger, qualify it for usefulness in life, and prepare it for 
happiness after death. But if both the parents should die, 
this must be done by friends or strangers ; and when its 



70. DISCIPLINE. 

education and dicipline require it to be separated from them 
the punishment must be inflicted by those who have it in 
charge, or else the duty which God enjoins and nature re- 
quires, will not be performed. 

It follows, therefore, from these premises, that children 
require government ; that this government must be by laws : 
for where there is no rule of action, there can be noofiPense ; 
that rewards and punishments are the appointed means of 
securing obedience to the system, and that these can not be 
dispensed with, either by the parent or the teacher. 

Let us now inquire what these rewards and punishments 
should he. To prosecute this investigation in a proper 
manner, a thorough knowledge of the constitution of hu- 
man nature, as it exists in childhood and youth, is indis- 
pensable. 

Man being a compound of mind and body, can only be 
understood by observing and studying both, for they act and 
react upon each other. In the successive periods of life, in 
dijfferent individuals, and in the various grades of civiliza- 
tion, the relative power of the mind upon the body, and 
the body upon the mind, is different. Thus, in the civili- 
zed and intellectual state, the mind exercises greater power 
over the body than in the savage state ; and the mind of a 
philosopher, or a Christian, governs the desires of his body 
more effectually, that the mind of an ignorant or wicked 
person controls his appetites ; and finally, the mind of an 
adult rules over his bodily wants with greater success than 
the mind of a child. In the tender stages of infancy, the 
reasoning powers and the moral sentiments are but little 
developed, and the corporeal appetites and desires are strong. 
The reason is obvious. The body must be built up, and 
hence the appetite for food, and the pleasures of indulgence, 
are great, sometimes almost insatiable. The impatience of 
labor is quick, because its industry can seldom be turned to 



DISCIPLINE. 77 

good account, and its limbs are soon fatigued, while they 
are growing ; its natural repugnance to close or long con- 
tinued confinement is equally strong, for fresh air and un- 
restrained exercise are requisite to the proper maintenance 
of health ; its curiosity for wandering among new objects is 
intense, because observation is the food of the young intel- 
lect, and indispensable to its growth ; finally, its love of 
play and of pleasure is almost indomitable, because on the 
plan of nature, no responsibility in regard to the future 
rests upon it ; and if it had not a desire for play, it would 
not take the necessary exercise, nor acquire the proper use 
and discipline of its limbs. Thus, almost all the pains and 
pleasures of infancy and youth connect themselves with the 
body. The gratification of the physical or material part is 
the great object ; that which answers to the wants and de- 
sires of the body aff*ords the chief pleasure. Like the lower 
animals, it lives for the body, and for the present moment. 

Its enjoyments are physical — its sufferings are physical ; 
and, when they extend to the mind, it is because something 
which administered to the pleasures of sense has been with- 
held, or applied in such manner as to mortify the few 
feelings and sentiments of the soul, which at that early 
period, are in a state of susceptibility. 

What is the deduction from these views ? Undoubtedly, 
that there is in the constitution of childhood, a foundation 
for physical correction ; and that punishment of the body is 
the most efiicient mode of reaching and affecting the mind. 
Such are the conclusions of reason, applied to this subject. 
And what are the results of experience ? Let the practice 
of the whole world return the answer. In every age, and 
in all nations, we find the hand of the parent uplifted in 
physical correction, or some other mode adopted, of punishing 
the body through its desires and sensibilities. It is, indeed, 
an instinct on the part of the parent, and, by an instinct 



78 DISCIPLINE. 

equally intuitive, unerring, and universal, is acquiesced 
in by the child. Nature in fact, is at the bottom of tlie 
matter, and prompts, if she does not regulate, the whole 
discipline. 

But does God in his revealed will bear us out in these 
conclusions ? The Bible shall give the reply. " He that 
spare th his rod, hateth his son ; but he that loveth him, 
chasteneth him betimes." " Poolishness is bound in the 
heart of a child ; but the rod of correction shall drive it far 
away.'' "Withhold not correction from the child, for if 
thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die. Thou 
shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul 
from hell." 

Thus we find punishment of the body, even with the 
rod, expressly enjoined by Heaven, as a parental duty; 
and declared to be powerful, not only in driving away fool- 
ishness, and qualifying the child for the duties of this life, 
but in preparing it for the enjoyments of eternity ; and 
we are thus supplied with new evidence of the conformity 
of the law of the Bible, to the laws which govern the con- 
stitution of man. 

Corporeal punishments are of two kinds, those which act 
upon the body in a positive manner, and give pain, as the 
hand, the ferule, and the rod ; and those which act nega- 
tively, and give pain to the unindulged appetites, as with- 
holding luxurious articles of food and drink, and confine- 
ment to the house, or to a certain position. The latter, at 
first view, might seem preferable ; but they are not always 
practicable with the great mass of parents, who are poor, 
and are obliged to work, and for whom all general rules 
should be formed ; and they can not always be conveniently 
resorted to by teachers. There is, moreover, an objection of 
a different kind, which detracts something from their char- 
acter. If the child be not hungry, or its appetite be 



DISCIPLINE. 79 

destroyed by its emotion of mind, the denial of good things 
will inflict no punishment ; and confinement will give no 
bodily pain if there should, at the moment, be no disposition 
to go abroad. Still fixrther, there are moral objections to 
restraints upon the appetites, which deserve deep considera- 
tion. The child is taught, by the estimate which it per- 
ceives the parent to place on the enjoyments of sense, when 
he withholds them as a punishment, to regard them as of 
paramount value, and is thus rendered more sensual ; w^hen, 
perhaps, the very offense for which he was punished, was 
an act of improper indulgence, or of depredation for the 
gratification of his appetite. Finally, if the hunger of 
children be not satisfied, they are tempted, secretly, to 
acquire tlie means of gratifying it ; and are thus led into 
habits of concealment, deceit, and theft, which, practiced to- 
wards the parent for a time, may at last be exercised on 
society. 

On the other hand, it has been said, that the use of the 
rod degrades the child in its own estimation ; debases it in 
the view of other children ; exasperates it toward its par- 
ents ; is liable to be excessive ; and contributes to maintain on 
the earth the system of violence and war, which must be 
abolished before the world can be christianized. These are 
serious objections, and it is our duty to consider them sep- 
arately. 

I begin by appealing to every judicious and observing 
parent and preceptor, to say, whether they have witnessed, 
under the application of the rod, any evidence of improper 
self-abasement in the child ; and would ask all who have 
felt it, to recollect whether its merited and proper infliction 
sunk them in their own estimation, below the point of that 
humility which children ought to feel, under the deserved 
chastisements of their parents or teachers ? From my own 
observation and experience, I should answer these questions 



80 DISCIPLINE. 

in the negative; and, "believing, as I have already said, 
that the use of this instrument of correction is a kind of 
instinct on the part of the parent, acquiesced in by the 
feelings of nature in the child, I can not suppose that its 
employment, under proper regulations, can debase the feel- 
ings, or break down the manly spirit, but rather contribute 
to purify and elevate both. 

That it necessarily lowers the chihl in the estimation of 
others, there is as little reason to believe. If it be a 
natural punishment, such an efPect can not flow from it ; 
and that it does not, is a matter of observation ; for we 
generally see the surrounding children, if relatives or 
friends, disposed to pity the one which has been chastised, 
and often find them, subsequently, engaged in offering it 
their little consolations. That children who are frequently 
whipped, sometimes become objects of derision with their 
playmates, is certain ; but, as a general rule, such children 
are great offenders, and among children, as in society, those 
who continue to offend in the midst of correction, wall at 
length fall into contempt. 

That the rod may exasperate the child toward its par- 
ent, there is no doubt, if it be used when the child is inno- 
cent, or applied to a degree disproportionate to the offense, 
or with partiality, in reference to other children ; and under 
such circumstances, it ought to feel indignant. But where 
is the individual who can say that he ever loved a parent 
the less, for inflicting personal chastisement in a proper 
degree when he had a consciousness of having done wrong? 
So far from producing the alleged effect, it generates the 
opposite ; and children never love their parents more, than 
in the hour of repentance and returning joy, which follows 
this kind of punishment inflicted in a suitable manner and 
to a merited extent. 

That the rod is liable to be handled to excess, is an 



DISCIPLINE. 81 

evidence of its power, but no objection to its regulated use. 
Any other mode of punishment may be abused ; and he 
who has not sense and self-commaud enough to use the 
rod discreetly, might be expected to err in any other means 
of correction. The objection that, being at hand, it is em- 
ployed while the parent is still in anger, we shall con- 
sider hereafter. 

The last objection, that it keeps alive a spirit of force 
and violence, and contributes to maintain war in the world, 
we may meet, as we might indeed have met the others, 
with the remark, that its use is of Divine appointment in 
the Old, and nowhere forbidden in the New Testament ; 
and that it can not, therefore, remotely promote the effects 
ascribed to it, for God is not the author of any command- 
ment that leads to violence and war ; nor would he have 
failed to prohibit every thing which interferes with the 
spread of his moral dominion on the earth. It is not, more- 
over, by abolishing war, that the world will be christianized, 
war and violence will cease. 

Although the advocate of corporeal punishments, I am 
far from intending to favor a system of cruel discipline ; 
and should, moreover, think little of the head and heart, 
or ratlier think much that was bad of the parents or teach- 
er, who might overlook the circumstances under which they 
should be inflicted. Let us inquire into a few of these 
conditions. 

Corporeal punishments influence the actions, but carry 
no instruction to the understanding. They should then, 
in all cases, from the cradle upwards, be preceded by a 
statement to the child of the offense and the reason for the 
punishment ; that is, it must be made to know and remem- 
ber, that the act was wrong, and that its repetition will 
bring a return of the pain of correction. It should also be 
instructed in the nature of the duty it has violated, and 



82 DISCIPLINE. 

made to see that it has trampled some laiv under foot, the 
'penalty of which it is about to sufter under a warrant of 
execution, derived both from nature and God. It will thus 
get considerations of duty, and a cultivation of its young 
moral sentiments, associated with the punishment, and the 
whole will be the better understood and recollected, from that 
painful association of ideas. It should likewise, when prac- 
ticable, be corrected in secret; for secret correction is most 
efficient, and it is less likely to lose its standing with its 
fellows, if they remain ignorant of its vices. Finally, in 
the midst of his anger, or his regret, the parent or teacher 
should manifest affection, and by all his eloquence, arouse 
that of the little offender into activity. 

Thus regulated in its use, the rod will be found, not 
merely an instrument of fear, but of penitence and respect ; 
and such has been the experience of the workl 

We come now to physical rewards, the opposite of phys- 
ical 'punishments. These act by giving bodily pleasure, 
and of course address themselves to the senses. Let us 
consider them in succession, beginning with the sense of 
taste. This is the earliest on which we can act, because it 
is the first that requires to be indulged. There can be no 
objection to granting a child the means of his indulgence 
as a reward for good conduct ; but as it generates a taste 
for luxury, it should not be continued after the other sen- 
ses are so far developed that we can act upon them with 
effect, which happens in different children, at various ages. 

The sense of smell is next developed, but the means of 
gratifying it are not so convenient as those of the sense of 
taste. Its gratification however, is less da?igerous to the 
future, than that of taste, and need not be abandoned, as 
long as its special enjoyments can be made a means of 
reward. 

Hearing is a sense, developed at an early period, as all 



DISCIPLINE. §3 

who have observed the effect of music on young children 
are aware. Through this sense they may be pleasurably 
and powerfully affected ; but the frequent resort of mothers 
and nurses to its soothing influence, prevents in some meas- 
ure its use as an occasional reward. AVhenever it can be 
employed however it should not be omitted ; and as the 
indulgence of this desire does not contribute to debauch 
the mind, but to soften and elevate it, the rew^ard may be 
given, as long as discipline is required, or the child contin- 
nes to regard it as a favor. 

The sense of feeling includes the sensibility of the skin 
to heat and cold, and fresh air, that of the lungs for the 
last, and also, a want or desire seated in the muscles, 
for active exercise. These desires are all gratified by 
excursions in the open air ; and while confinement is a cor- 
poreal punishment, going abroad for play is, to children 
who are not permitted to run at large habitually, a real 
and most admirable reward. Its use in no manner or 
degree contributes to impair the intellect, pervert the 
moral sentiments, or excite the animal propensities ; but to 
elevate the two former and promote health and symmetry 
of body, with buoyancy of animal spirits. 

The last of the senses to wdiich I refer, is that of sight. 
At a very early period, infants, as all mothers know, are 
attracted by light. The young child as instinctively and 
steadily turns its eye to the candle at night, as the plant 
in a dark cellar directs its branches toward an opening in 
the wall. As it grows, the desire for this gratification 
also increases, and finally exceeds in energy that of smell, 
touch, and hearing. Hence, the confinement of a child in a 
dark room, even where it is not afraid, is a bodily punish- 
ment ; while the gratification of its vision with masses of 
light and shade, and variety and brilliancy of colours, may 
be made a most cherished reward. Vision has, with much 



84 DISCIPLINE. 

propriety, boon called the intellectual sense, for, of the whole, 
its indulgence approaches nearest to the indulgences 
of the mind. It involves nothing sensual, in the bad accep- 
tation of the word, and may therefore be employed as a 
reward, till they shall cease to be necessary, whatever may 
be the age of the child. 

In resorting to the pleasures of sense, as a reward, we 
may press several, or the whole of them, into our service 
at the same time; and, when skillfully used, their united 
influences are of the happiest kind. Children are great 
lovers of nature. A flower, a little bird, a branch of 
mistletoe, with its pear-colored berries in winter, a babbling 
brook, which they can dam up in an hour, a fall of snow 
which lodo^es on the limbs of the shade tree in front of the 
door, or half buries up the grass in the yard, a butterfly, 
or a liffhtnino-buo:, the taste of a new fruit, the smell of 
a new flower, a whiter pebble stone, or a more retired 
play-ground surrounded by fresher natural objects, acts 
pleasantly on their senses, and may be made an indul- 
gence and a reward. But when the sensible and benev- 
olent parent or teacher combines a visit among the vari- 
ous objects of the natural world, as the reward he would 
bestow for obedience, or great effort at labour or study, 
he presents the highest sensual gratification which God 
has placed at his disposal. 

Diligence and propriety have characterized the deportment 
of the children or pupils, and he who has the care of them 
announces as the reward of those virtues, a ramble of all 
who have thus carried themselves, he being the leader and 
mentor, but not the master of the little company. What 
joy instantly beams from every countenance ! and how 
strikingly must each contrast Ms happy lot with that of 
the offender, who is left behind in confinement ! how directly 
must he associate the reward, with the observance of 



DISCIPLINE. 85 

duty whicli procured it ! What bustle of preparation then 
ensues, what contempt of bad weather, and bad roads, what 
feelings of young enterprise and impatience to be gone, 
start up in every palpitating heart ! Spring is unfolding 
her beauties — the air is o;enial — the li2:ht is now and then 
interrupted by a passing cloud, raised high in the heavens, 
and threatening no shower to damp their ardour — the 
meadow lark, perched on the crag of a decaying stump, 
and the cat-bird in the thicket, raise their notes, and the 
urchins hasten to the spot and put the songsters to flight — 
the squirrel is then treed, and lies flat and quiet on the 
limb, while club after club passes harmless by ; one boy, 
more aspiring than rest, attempts to climb the trunk, 
becomes dizzy, and slides sheepishly down over its rough 
bark, ashamed to catch the eye of her whose admiration 
he sought to win, and half provoked at the shouts of merri- 
ment which his failure called forth, to die away the next 
moment, when some straggler announces a new violet, rais- 
ing its timid head through the faded leaves of the prece- 
ding autumn ! Then the steep hill, and the race of boys 
and girls to its top ; the descent to the new and shaded hol- 
low beyond ; the jumping of the little brook, with the young 
gallantries it brings forth ; the lying down to drink, by 
some thirsty boy, and another, filled with mischief, push- 
ing his face into the water from behind ; the discovery of 
a petrifaction and the gathering together, to wonder at its 
form, and struggle for its possession ! Now, the admira- 
tion of the half expanded buds, and a transient comparison 
of those of different bushes ! Then the union of all the 
boys, under some leader, designated as it were by instinct, 
to roll over the rotten log — and the discovery of a harmless 
little snake ; the instinctive impulse to kill, the haste and 
uproar of the execution, and the terror of the girls, who 
afterward see a snake in every stick they are about to 



86 DISCIPLINE. 

tread upon ! The continuance of the ramble, till it reaches 
the dogwood, the red-bud, and the buckeye, with their 
blooming- limbs ; the climbing, the breaking, the throwing 
down, and the scrambling below, till all are loaded to their 
hearts' content, and by some new route they return home, 
fatigued and hungry, to tell of great discoveries, and boast 
of gi-eat deeds. And where has been the parent or teacher 
throughout this scene of pleasure ? If at the post of duty, 
in the midst of every pastime, and attentive to every 
opportunity of doing good ; explaining each object, pointing 
out every relation, disclosing the properties and qualities of 
each attractive plant, separating the different parts of its 
flower, and teaching their names and connections, lectur- 
ing on the woods, commenting on the thunderbolt whicli 
destroyed the ash, but passed instinctive and harmless 
over the beecb tree, by its side ; calling attention to the 
backwardness of vegetation on the north side of the hill 
compared with the south, and teaching that it is the effect 
of differences in heat ; thus inspiring a love of knowledge 
in the young mind, when excited by the pleasures of the 
body, disclosing to it some of the most beautiful laws of 
nature, and directing the young heart up to her great and 
benevolent Author. 

Such are the fruits of an excursion made in such man- 
ner as to gratify the senses of childhood, and none can 
fail to see in them a reward that may be pressed into the 
service of school and family government with the happiest 
immediate results, and the most admirable effects upon the 
future character of the objects of our affection. 

We come now by a natural and easy transition, to rewards 
and punishments which belong primaril}^ to the mind. 
These connect themselves with the desires and m.otives of 
the soul, as those w^e have just travelled through are 
connected with the appetites and sensibilities of the body. 



DISCIPLINE. 8f 

To view them accurately, we need not change our ground, 
but merely extend our vision a little deeper into the con- 
stitution of man. We have already seen that he is a com- 
pound of body and soul — of flesh and spirit, and that each 
half has its peculiar appetencies and wants. It is the 
improper indulgence of these that leads to transgression, 
and it is by acting on these, that he is both rewarded and 
punished. We have disposed of what relates to the body ; 
let us now ascend to the sentiments and propensities of 
the mind, considering them as nearly as practicable in the 
order of their development with the growth of the child. 

The first affection developed, is the love of mother ; to 
which succeeds in due time that for the father, and at 
length (the conduct and character of both parents being 
alike), the affection for both seems in general to be equal. 
Now, at the earliest dawn of intellect, the child may be 
rewarded and punished through this affection. When the 
mother frowns upon it or turns away her face, the sun of its 
happiness is dimmed — it is distressed and punished, through 
the medium of its filial affection. On the other hand, 
when the soft music of her voice falls upon its ear, and her 
countenance beams with love and praise, it rejoices, as the 
chilled and tender lily of spring expands, when the clouds 
are chased away, and the fountains of light and heat are 
opened afresh. 

Here then is the first, and let me add, the greatest of 
the means of moral government which God has given us ; 
and no mother honors the name, or deserves to be blessed 
with children, who neglects its use. Early and skillfully 
exercised, it fixes over the child a dominion, that, like the 
permanent colors which the light of the sun stamps upon 
the opening rose, must be felt till the individual is gather- 
ed with that mother in the grave. To maintain this influ- 
ence the parents however, must attend to all that 



88 BisciPLmE. 

is necessary. They should view the child as having a ra- 
tional soul, capable, as it grows in years, of observing 
and reasoning, and having other desires and wants than 
those which, through infancy, make it cleave to its moth- 
er's bosom as the source of all its enjoyments, and its place 
of refuge in every danger. They should know that to pre- 
serve an influence founded on filial affection, they must, as 
the child increases in age and knowledge, keep them- 
selves in its respect and veneration. To do this, they 
should administer the reward of their approbation, and 
inflict the punishment of their displeasure, on such occasions 
only as demand tlieni, and apportion them to the acts that 
are to be rewarded or punished. They must, in the very 
midst of their chastisements, convince the child of their 
affection, and that they are but discharging a duty of 
love. They should again and again recite the law of duty 
it has violated, and instruct it anew as far as practicable, 
on the reasons for the law; thus making it conscious that 
the punishment was merited, and Avill finally be for its 
own happiness. In this way they will associate mental 
instruction with mental pain, and at the same time, 
appear as benefactors instead of tyrants. They will 
excite repentance, which never comes from punishment 
unaccompanied with the conviction of error, and instead of 
anger inspire a sentiment of reverence, when the parental 
government is placed on a foundation that can not be shaken. 
To accomplish this great object however, it is indispensa- 
ble that parents should look to their own conduct. In 
their lives, they must evince that they are governed by 
moral laws, which are but a stretching out to greater objects 
and duties of the laws they lay down for the government 
of the child. They should come into the family tribunal 
with clean hands, and engrave on the rod of correction, 
" Let Jdm tJiat is without sin, cast the first sione." 






DISCIPLINE. 89 

Hosv is ifc possible that parents who give themselves up 
to passion and caprice, to deception and petty falsehoods, to 
instability of principle and fickleness of pursuit, to backbi- 
tings, to gluttony and drunkenness, to profanity, grossness, 
and impiety, can by any rewards or punishments, make 
themselves objects of veneration, or acquire over their 
offspring a moral power ? To do this, they must practice 
what they enjoin, show obedience to the laws of society 
and God, and present themselves as examples of whatever 
purity human nature can acquire. 

If I dwell on this subject, it is because it must be regar- 
ded as the root of all moral government, and viewing it 
thus, it is proper to say still more, addressed especially to 
mothers. By the plan of creation, and the providence of 
God, it is the peculiar duty of the mother to watch over 
her child for many of the first years of its life ; and on her, 
more than the father, rests the parental responsibility. 

It has been said tliat most great men have had talen- 
ted mothers. How much of their superiority might have 
been a birth-right, we need not stop to inquire, but there 
is little doubt that much of it, as far as the mother was 
concerned, arose from her instruction and discipline — train- 
ing the faculties and affections by times, insisting on their 
supremacy over the appetites, and directing even the 
tottering footsteps of INFANCY into paths that finally led 
up to the temple of fame ; a bight that is never reached 
by those who loiter on the way to eat and drink beyond 
the comforts of nature, or join in wild revelries, or prosecute 
schemes of vanity, avarice, or revenge. 

Much has been said and written on the influence of 
woman. This influence depends on two of our affections, 
conjugal and maternal love. But all the power she can 
exert on the man, sinks into insignificance, compared with 
that upon child. It is in shaping the character of the 
8 



90 DISCIPLINE. 

child, that her influence on society and its destinies is 
distinctly perceptible. If she neglect to exert this power, 
or exert it in favor of wrong objects, no labors of the 
teacher or the moralist can correct the bad effects of her 
errors. She may carry with her a mighty power on the 
earth, but must rely chiefly on those means which act on 
her ofl'spring. Using these with talent and skill she will 
indeed direct, if she does not govern the world. But how 
few mothers, of all whom I now have the honor to address, 
can lay their hands on their hearts, those hearts which burn 
perhaps with the purest flame of affection, and say that 
they are conscious of having discharged their duty in this 
respect ! How many are negligent and irresolute ! How 
many overlook offences which do not happen to annoy 
themselves ! How many from their necessary engagements, 
or from indolence, omit to find out with certainty that the 
crime was not committed by another ! How many reward 
when they should punish, — thus bribing the child to do its 
duty, so far as to save themselves the pain of inflicting 
salutary correction ! How many sink themselves in the 
respect of their children, by appealing on all occasions to 
the father, and suff'er themselves to be trampled upon, till 
he shall return to interpose ! In this way, mothers lay up 
for themselves '^ wrath against the day of wrath.'^ The 
father at length dies — the governor is gone, and the rod of 
correction is buried with him in the grave ! For a time 
the sorrow of the family may keep the house in order, but 
the elements of disobedience, discord and vice are only 
smothered; the devouring flames at length burst forth, 
and the happiness and dignity of the household are 
consumed like the withered grass of our fields. In the 
midst of this beginning desolation, she may have great 
amiability of heart and undying love, but the hearts around 
her do not respond to her affections, and, let loose from all 



DISCIPLI^'E. 9 1 

salutary restraints, indulge themselves in every evil pro- 
pensity, regardless of duty, and cold to the sufferings they 
raise in the hosom which cherished them in the hours of 
their infancy. She exhorts in vain, and for the first time 
undertakes reproof and correction ; but her hand is 
inexperienced and powerless : they do not fear and rever- 
ence her ; they absent themselves for scenes of idleness and 
vice ; they come home altered in conduct and character, till 
they begin to seem to her like the children of strangers ; they 
grieve her spirit by day, and fill her nights with dreams 
of anguish and terror ; they eat out her substance, her 
spirits droop, she resigns herself to despair, her health 
consumes away, and like our beautiful locust, when the 
worm eats to its heart, she sinks into an untimely grave — 
from the verge of which she looks back on the floating 
wreck of her once innocent and playful family, and then 
turns her eyes for ever to her husband and her God. 

The next propensity in children, of which I shall speak, 
is the love of ornament. This is a universal principle, for 
we find it as deeply affixed in the children of the Indian, as 
in our own. It is stronger in female than male children, 
because they are designed to be more ornamented. The 
indulgence of this taste is a high gratification in early life, 
and withholding its objects of desire is of course a punish- 
ment. Much then may be done, at a small expense, to 
reward, and much may be omitted, to punish, on this princi- 
ple. The objection to it is, that the natural love of orna- 
ment is increased ; and to this due regard should be had ; but, 
on the other hand, it cultivates the taste of the child, 
especially the daughter, and prepares her for appearing in 
society in a better style of personal appearance than might 
otherwise be attainable, an object which deserves attention. 
I believe that not a little may be eff'ected, both of reward 



92 DISCIPLINE. 

and punisliment through this principle, without vitiating 
the character; but "let every one be fully persuaded in his 
own mind.'^ 

Love of play has been already mentioned, in reference 
to its bodily effects; but it deserves a place among the 
moral influences; for when children play, they exercise 
their minds, call into action their ingenuity, give activity 
to their enterpri^3e, and set various feelings into opera- 
tion. To this gratification there can be no possible 
objection, but that founded on its too frequent recurrence; 
and as it promotes health of body, it may with great pro- 
priety be granted as a reward, and denied occasionally, as a 
punishment. 

Love of property is an inherent and powerful passion. 
In childhood it is feeble, but increases with years as other 
desires fade aw^ay, and in age too often swallows up every 
nobler propensity, leading the individual to hoard up, and 
give nothing out but what is extorted ; as an old pond in 
the field swallows up all the muddy water that flows 
toward it, and gives back only to the power of the sun and 
winds, which carry off its surface. Children desire merely 
that kind of property which they can use, for their object 
is not prospective but immediate gratification. Within this 
limit however, the desire is importunate; and hence we 
may act strongly upon them, by giving or withholding 
such toys and playthings as are adapted to the taste of 
different ages. Li selecting these, a judicious parent or 
teacher w^ill constantly prefer those which improve the 
taste and enlarge the knowledge of the child; for in this 
way much useful information may be conveyed on the 
mechanism and movements of the works of art ; or some of 
the first rudiments of natural history inculcated by choos- 
ing the productions of nature. The first lessons of economy 



^ DISCIPLINE. 93 

iii;iy also be given, for the child will listen attentively 
to the injunction not to destroy that which it prizes as a 
reward, or values as an acquisition. 

Curiosity and wonder are strong passions in childhood, 
and may be turned to good account in our systems of 
discipline as well as instruction. All activity and acuteness 
of observation depends on our curiosity to see new objects, 
and find out new properties and relations ; and upon our 
natural capability of feeling the emotion of wonder or admi- 
ration at what is novel or intricate, or beautiful or sublime, 
either in nature or art. The indulgence of these desires 
is not only another means of reward, but an actual duty 
towards the child, as contributing to the growth of its 
intellect ; and the denial is a punishment, which may be 
occasionally administered, with the effect of increasing these 
laudable desires, by refusing to it for a time the means of 
their gratification ; as the appetite is whetted by withhold- 
ing food. They are indeed designed to procure aliment for 
the mind; and may be played upon without any possible 
injury, either physical or moral 

The love of knowledge generally, is but an extension of 
the principle j ust considered. I speak of every kind of learn- 
ing, and all the branches of science which man has need 
of knowing. It seldom happens that we meet with a child 
or youth, in whom it is necessary to moderate this desire, 
or who might be injured by offering new and special facilities 
for study, as a reward. Such however, there are, and the 
destruction of health or intellect is occasionally the touching 
result of too much indulgence of this desire. Parents and 
teachers should be on their guard in respect to such uncom- 
mon pupils, and moderate them in their application, so as to 
ward off' its future consequences. These are but exceptions 
to our rules, which should always be adapted to the 
character of the many. I would say then that in them, 



94 DISCIPLINE. 

the natural love of sound learning and useful knowledge, is 
adapted to the wants and duties of man in a state of 
nature, rather than civilization ; and that care and address 
are necessary to raise it to the proper degree. Hie labor 
hoc opus est; but when the work is accomplished, the 
teacher has little left to do, for as the steam-boat when in 
rapid motion is easily directed, so the pupil that is bent 
on study is governed with facility, and indeed seldom falls 
into transgression. Moreover, the chief object of all 
rewards and punishments in our schools and colleges, is to 
exact a compliance with those laws which require regular 
and accurate recitations, and he who, from love of knowledge, 
complies with this part of the system, can violate but few 
other rules of our institutions. The love of knowledge is 
not a desire which we can press into our catalogue of prin- 
ciples to which we address our rewards and punishments, 
but goes very far to render them unnecessary, and may be 
placed high in the list of the preventive means of offenses. 
It is then a great auxiliary to the teacher ; but how is it 
to be inspired? As it is a duty to study, all the means 
enumerated, as far as they can be used, may be employed 
in turn to reward and punish him who is idle ; but still the 
assigned lessons may be studied through fear of punishment, 
and not con amore; and when the pupil leaves the institu- 
tion, he may loathe the acquisition of further knowledge, 
even the more for having been punished into what he has 
acquired. Nevertheless, that which to speak figuratively, 
has been whipped into the mind is not without its use, as 
it has often happened that he who at first studied only from 
fear, comes at length to study from love. Severity of 
punishment in these cases, should however be the ultima 
ratio proeceptoris, and always connected with other means 
calculated to awaken the dormant passion. The plan of 
this discourse does not carry us into the consideratiou of 



DISCIPLINE. 95 

this subject, and I should be little qualified to illustrate it 
before a body of enlightened practical teachers ; but I will 
throw out a few hints, although foreign in some degree to 
our immediate object. But are they in fact foreign ? Will 
not the scholar study if he derives pleasure from it ? He 
undoubtedly will, and this pleasure will reward him and 
incite him to renewed efforts. Let the teacher then secure 
to him this pleasure, and it will generate the love of knowl- 
edge. But how, in many minds, can this be done? In 
some it can not be done, for all intellects are not equal, 
and some were never designed to comprehend the proper- 
ties and relations of things. But omitting a reference to 
these, I would say. First, That the philosophical maxim — 
'pass from the known to the unknown, should be observed, 
and that its violation has prevented many a scholar from 
acquiring a love of study ; because he was put carelessly or 
unskillfully on such plans as rendered the acquisition of 
knowledge difficult or impossible. Secondly, Different 
minds are differently constituted as to the balance among 
their faculties and tastes. One will have a strong talent, 
for language, another for collecting and treasuring up 
historical facts, another for the relations among natural 
bodies, and another for the idealities of the imagination. 
But our plans of school classification do not recognize this 
important fact ; and it must happen that many are repulsed 
from study, and go through school or go from it without 
acquiring a love of knowledge, simply by the influence of 
some branch for which they had no capacity ; who, if they 
had been tried separately, or in succession on all the 
branches, might at length have met with one which was to 
their taste, because adapted to their mental capability, and 
making progress in this, they would have passed by an 
easy transition to others, and finally acquired a love for 
the whole. Third, Something I think may be done by 



96 DISCIPLINE. 

substituting the didactic conversation of the teacher, for 
the authors that are usually provided ; as many things are 
rendered clear and attractive in colloquial intercourse that 
seem obscure and incomprehensible in the formality of the 
books. Fourth, It may be possible to arouse the dormant 
attention, by showing the usual applications of knowledge of 
various kinds in visits to works of art, where that knowledge 
manifests its utility and power. Fifth, Going into the 
great domain of nature, where every young heart palpitates 
more actively, and directing the attention of the pupil first 
to curious or beautiful productions as mere objects of sense; 
and then calling his awakened attention to their structure, 
properties and relations, so far as to excite his curiosity 
and put his faculties of knowledge into action; and finally 
referring him for a full account to the books, which he may 
then be induced to read. 

By means like these, I have seen a love of knowledge 
aroused in the minds of students of medicine ; and there- 
fore speak from some experience, while I say that which 
seems to me to be in accordance with the laws of the 
human mind. 

We come now to other principles of action, and I ask 
your attention to self-esteem, the foundation of pride. 
This sentiment exists in A^ery different degrees in different 
children, and consequently the control which may be exer- 
cised by its instrumentality is various. "We generally 
entertain and express but a poor opinion of the child which 
has no pride, but on the other hand, we consider its inordi- 
nate manifestation a crime. Its offensiveness to man, and 
criminality to God depend entirely on its intensity, and 
the objects on which it sustains itself. To feel proud of 
the character of a father or mother, one's friends, or a good 
reputation, is noble, and he who does not, we look upon as 
degraded ; but we despise him who is proud of dress, of 



DISCIPLINE. 97 

wealth, of personal appearance, of slender attainments, or 
of his own opinions. Self-esteem may, with propriety, 
under proper restrictions, be pressed into the service of 
family and academical government. The child should be 
taught to esteem himself in proportion as he discharges 
his various duties. When he has done well, the gratifica- 
tion of self love may be extended to him in moderation, 
by an acknowledgement of the fact, and when he tres- 
passes at home, in the primary school, or at the university, 
he may if possible, be mortified in his own estimation, as a 
punishment. 

Nearly connected with self-esteem in many of its exter- 
nal manifestations, but distinct in much of its internal 
constitution is the love of approbation, at once the fountain 
of vanity, ambition, and emulation. All the world con- 
demn the paltry and ridiculous displays of this sentiment 
which they have branded with the epithet of vanity ; but a 
different, though not unanimous estimate is made of those 
higher manifestations which have received the names 
ambition and emulation. 

Ambition in the ordinary acceptation of the term, involves 
a thirst for power and conquest over others, and in this view, 
must be condemned ; but when confined to objects of public 
utility, and studies that lead to knowledge and wisdom, 
although for the purpose of acquiring distinction, it 
assumes a different character. The principle which sus- 
tains it is too deeply rooted in the human mind to be erad- 
icated by ani/ discipline ; and we should rather seek to 
direct it on proper objects, and limit its invasion of the 
rights of others, by hemming it in with the principles of 
justice, benevolence, and piety, than to aim at its abolition. 
Confining ourselves to that love of relative distinction which 
is known under the name of emulation, let us inquire 
whether it should be employed in families, schools, and 
9 



98 DisciPLiiirE. 

universities, as a means of reward and punishment, suppos- 
ing it always to be directed upon admissible objects. 

That the love of relative distinction connected with the 
approbation and applause of those we respect, may be 
made a powerful means of restraining children from bad 
conduct, and animating them to good, including study, is 
generally acknowledged ; but several evil consequences are 
thought to flow from the operation of this principle. 

First — It is said to stimulate some minds to excess. 
This is true, but we must oppose to these cases the far 
greater number in which it excites the sluggard, the one 
who has no innate love of knowledge, and him who is prone 
to vicious habits, by rendering them unwilling to forfeit 
the good opinion of those whom they are taught to reverence, 
and mortifying them by being placed below their fellows. 

Second. — It is charged with generating unkind feelings 
among brothers and sisters and class-mates, which often 
amount to envy and strife, and sometimes involve both 
parents and teachers in the charge of partiality and injus- 
tice. That all these and other bad consequences may, and 
do in fact, very often come from it must be admitted ; but 
most of them are feelings that soon die away, the estimate 
of things made by the unsuccessful in the hour of disap- 
pointment being reversed perhaps the next day ; and the 
friendships that were severed for a moment in most cases 
becoming speedily restored. 

Third. — It is said to be the substitution of an inferior 
motive of action, the applause of man, for the approbation 
of God. We act incessantly however, from motives infe- 
rior to that of direct duty to God, and such is the economy 
of nature and of providence. According to the Bible, all 
men except christians act from motives inferior to that in 
every thing. Till religion takes possession of the soul 
and transforms our principles, we neither practice virtue 



DISCIPLINE. 99 

and refrain from vice, nor acquire knowledge, nor prosecute 
any object whatever because God lias commanded us ; but 
because be has implanted in us desires both of mind and 
body, and connected with their exercise the sensations of 
pleasure and pain ; the former to animate us to action, 
according to the physical and moral laws that govern our 
systems ; and the latter also to incite us to action in certain 
caseS) as when wc take food to relieve the pain of hunger, 
or make great exertion to rescue a suffering child from 
danger, and thereby relieve ourselves from the 2)aiu of 
agitated parental love. Thus we may, indeed we must, 
(befor3 the influence of religion changes our motives,) act 
from other considerations than immediate obedience to 
God; and all that He requires is that our actions should 
in sincerity be the offspring of our natural desires, and 
such as his revealed will does not forbid. 

But does not the christian, as well as all others, necessa- 
rily act from motives that have their foundation in his 
natural desires ; for if they were extinguished, what would 
prompt him to action ? If for example, the desire for fresh 
air were destroyed, no one would alw^ays breathe because 
it was commanded of God. The moment his attention was 
directed on another object, he would of course forget that 
he was commanded to carry on that function. If the love 
of offspring were abolished, wdiat would recall the minds 
of parents from other pursuits, to the duty of looking after 
their infant children ? And were the desire for knowledge 
and for property expunged, who would recollect to leave 
off the search after the former to acquire the necessary 
amount of the latter for present and future support ; or 
think when his mind was imbued with schemes of business, 
of the command to cultivate knowledge ? We must then, 
act from the subordinate motives established by God, for 
impelling us on, as certainly as the principles of inanimate 



I 

100 DISCIPLINE. 

matter in the physical world must move at the bidding of 
attraction and repulsion according to laws which, like those 
of human nature, are a part of the system that governs 
the universe. 

Eevelation in fact, was not given to instruct us in our 
duties to each other; hut to enforce their observance by 
presenting a system of rewards and punishments beyond 
the present life. It does not abolish our inherent desires, 
but teaches us to curb the unruly, repress the inordinate, 
and preserve such a balance among the whole, as that none 
shall gratify themselves at the expense of the rest ; or of 
the rights and happiness of others. He who does this 
because God has commanded it, lives in duty to God, though 
every action of his life may be the immediate offspring of 
the fundamental principles of his mind and body. The 
principle of emulation then, is subordinate to the principle 
of duty to God, and not at variance with it, except when 
improperly directed or excessively exercised. 

Under this view, I regard the workings of emulation as 
not necessarily/ immoral, and in reference to its influence in 
schools, the inquiry should be, how to obtain its valuable 
exciting influences without its disadvantages. This must 
be left to judicious practical teachers, who should always 
recollect that of all the motives to action, emulation stands 
least in need of being stimulated ; that in many minds it 
requires to be moderated ; and that it should be kept under 
the supremacy of the nobler motives of benevolence, con- 
scientiousness and veneration. It is undeniable that it 
has not always been thus regulated, and that its abuses 
have brought it into discredit. Teachers have found it a 
principle easily acted upon ; and through indolence or an 
ignorance of consequences, or indifference to the moral 
character of their pupils, have too often made it the sole 
means of animating them to study and regular conduct, 



DISCIPLINE. 101 

instead of restraining it within limits not incompatible with 
other principles. 

Benevolence or an interest in the welfare of others, is an 
innate sentiment against which, as a means of discipline, 
moral and intellectual, there can be no possible objection, 
but its influence is rather preventive than corrective. The 
cultivation of the benevolent feelings of children modifies 
and controls the operation of their lower passions and 
propensities, purifies their desires, and on the whole, predis- 
poses them to other acts of duty than those of beneficence. 
This cultivation should therefore be carefully made, both 
by parents and teachers, and their labors will be bounti- 
fully rewarded by a diminution in the number of their 
transgressions. One mode of training this sentiment and 
pressing it into the course of education, is to direct the 
attention of your children to objects of charity, whenever 
we reward them with money for obedience. We are thus 
enabled to incite them to study, or good conduct, without 
administering to a sordid love of property, and at the same 
time augment their benevolence, by affording them the 
means of purchasing the laudable pleasure which comes 
from its practice. 

The last principle of action to which I shall direct your 
inquiries, is veneration for God. This, like the others, is 
innate, and the highest of all the moral sentiments. I have 
already spoken of its influence when the parent is its object. 

Veneration, in its perfect degree, involves gratitude, 
love, and respect ; but the two former are not indispensa- 
ble, for we often cherish the latter alone. Indeed, respect 
is but a lower degree of veneration, and this is what we 
feel for a great and good name of antiquity, or for an 
ancient and beneficial custom. Eeverence is the same 
feeling, cherished for things that are divine, or for persons 
who seem to stand as representatives of the divinity, such 



102 DISCIPLINE. 

as pious and aged parents, or exemplary and hoary-headed 
teachers, or ministers of the gospel. 

The veneration or reverence of children for their parents, 
and preceptors, should comprehend love and gratitude with 
respect, and be ennobled with a looking up to God, as the 
fountain of whatever is lovely and reverential in them. 
Thus formed and directed, this sentiment gives to the parent 
and teacher control over the will and actions of the child, 
beyond every other. Of the means of forming it, nothing 
need be added to what was said in speaking of the rela- 
tions of parent and child. When this feeling exists, the 
fear of incurring the displeasure of the parent or preceptor, 
is constantly present, and constitutes a powerful means of 
prevention ; while it keeps down anger and resentment 
under correction, if that should be necessary. The setting 
up of the authority of this sentiment of adoration to God 
and reverence for the parent, in the heart of the child, is 
the great desideratum in discipline, from the cradle to the 
theater of life — from the primary school, to the university. 
It is an aegis of brass against immorality, and the palladium 
of liberty in every land where freedom is sustained by a 
constitutional government. The power of this principle, in 
a national point of view, is disclosed by the hesitation with 
which the subjects of a throne, held venerable by tradition 
and early impressions, come up to its overthrow, although 
it may have sent forth none but the edicts of despotism. 
The heroes of the revolution, and the authors of our federal 
constitution and the union it establishes, should be held up 
to our children, as patriots whom they ought to reverence — 
the works themselves as political institutions which deserve 
the deepest veneration. This should be a part of their 
education, at home, in society, in the primary school, the 
academy, and the university ; for a great object of educa- 
tion in this country, is, to make good citizens, and devoted 



DISCIPLINE. 103 

friends of the liberty we now enjoy. The spread of this feel- 
ing of reverence throughout the whole republic would in no 
degree interfere with all necessary amendments to the con- 
stitution, but rather contribute to promote them, while it 
would afford the greatest of all possible guarantees against 
its abolition by combinations of wicked men, in whom the 
sentiment of reverence for what is good never finds a 
place. 

I am sorry to say, that in the United States, especially 
in the valley of the Mississippi, the sentiment of veneration 
is not as carefully cherished in our children, as it is in some 
other countries, where its power is pressed into the service 
of tyranny ; while here there is nothing which it could ope- 
rate to sustain, that ought to be destroyed. The neglect 
arises, perhaps, from the very nature of our free institu- 
tions, which give to all, even in youth, a very great amount 
of liberty of speech and action ; but we should take care 
that the altars of liberty are not profaned and demolished 
by a licentiousness of feeling, the offspring of that very 
freedom. Children who are taught to venerate their 
parents and teachers, the fathers of the land, who have 
labored for its prosperity, our aged and virtuous matrons, 
our benevolent, literary, and religious institutions, and 
those who conduct them on correct principles — finally, 
Heaven itself, for which they all labor — become a law unto 
themselves, and conform, in manhood, to what they had 
venerated in youth. 

Keverence for God, as a first and great, unseen, govern- 
ing power, is a universal principle of human nature, which 
in difterent ages and nations, has made itself manifest in 
various ways, according to the lights of the understanding. 
Thus among the ancients, while the Egyptians bovred down 
in blind and stupid adoration to the filthiest reptiles, 
the Greeks paid homage to the creations of a bright but 



104 DISCIPLINE. 

licentious imagination ; and in one of the kingdoms of mod- 
ern Europe, when delivered over to a civil war and drenched 
with innocent hlood, though philosophy raised her voice 
above the din of anarchy, and proclaimed, there is no Ood, 
the people erected altars to the worship of Nature ! The 
sentiment of devotion may be sunk, obscured and perverted, 
but can not be abolished. Among ignorant and savage 
tribes, it is merely a passion of terror, and in this debased 
condition we observe it, in such of our own countrymen as 
have, from their ignorance, vice and superstition, but few 
claims to the character of civilized men, beyond that of 
being blended with them. But they who are instructed in 
the Bible, view the Creator as the author of rewards as 
well as punishments, and hve him with gratitude while they 
fear him in Jiumility. They know his attributes and 
decrees, and humble themselves before him as a being of 
infinite wisdom and goodness — worthy of all veneration — 
whose revealed will commands every moral duty — whose 
law is a law of universal kindness — who enjoins justice and 
generosity — and whose all seeing and sleepless eye watches 
over every object, from the sun glowing in the purple 
east, to the little child, that sports in his morning beams. 

When this fear of God is once established in the child, it 
becomes docile and dutiful, not prone to vice, easy to be 
admonished, and given to repentance under correction. On 
this fear depends the influence of the morality of the Bible. 
We can not dispense with this morality, but it would be pow- 
erless if separated from the theology of the Bible. Should 
the latter be despised and rejected by parents and teachers, 
the former would follow its fate in the estimation of the 
child. And this for the plainest of all reasons, that the 
morality is every where presented as the command of God, 
an expression of his will, a law enacted by himself and pro- 
mulgated on the earth for his own pleasure. If then the 



DISCIPLINE. 105 

cliild should reject the author, according to the established 
laws of the human mind it will neglect his decrees. Let 
every teacher ponder deeply on this matter. He would not 
hope to see the rules of his institution obeyed, after he had 
fallen into contempt with his pupils, and why should he 
expect to see them obey the moral law if they do not rever- 
ence its giver ? Such logic would afford but a barren sign 
of talent, and he who might display it should be advised 
to adopt some other profession. He is not, either in head 
or heart, intended for the instruction of youth in any coun- 
try ; much less, in our own, where Christianity is, in fact, 
the sustaining principle of all our valuable institutions. 

Although I have detained you long with a survey of the 
principles upon which our discipline of children should rest, 
I can not close without recapitulating a few points, which 
must be thoroughly understood and conscientiously prac- 
ticed, or no system of rewards and punishments can be 
successful. 

First — Children, like grown persons, act from motives : 
and when they transgress they have an object in view," 
which at the moment is dear to them. They should then 
be carefully and patiently instructed in their duties, and 
have the reasons for the laws by which you govern them, 
as fully explained as possible. 

Second. — As there is among them a great variety in 
bodily and mental temperament, the characters of each 
should be studied, and the appropriate means of rewarding 
and punisliing selected accordingly. 

Third. — Children as well as adults have their periods of 
undefinable indisposition, and consequent irritability of the 
nervous system and feelings, when of course they are fro- 
ward, peevish and disobedient. Those who govern them 
should look into this matter; and in meting out their 
punishments, have respect to its influence, or, while the 



106 DISCIPLINE. 

disease, not known perhaps by the child, shall continue, 
omit them alto<>;ether. 

Fourth — The excitation of fear is a legitimate means 
of correction, for all correction operates indeed by exciting 
it; but children should not be frightened by goblins, or 
threatenings connected with supernatural appearances, for 
an association of ideas may make them superstitious and 
timid throughout life. 

Fifth. — Both rewards and punishments should be pro- 
portioned to offenses. They should be dealt out with all 
the impartiality a man requires from a court of justice. 
Those which are promised and deferred should never be 
forgotten, and those which are inflicted as soon as the 
offense is committed, should not be greater than if the 
parent or teacher had no excitement of feeling. It is best 
to punish and reward upon the spot, that both may become 
associated with the offense in the memory of the child ; but 
he who can not apportion them in the right degree while 
his passions are up, should wait for them to become tran- 
quil. His manifestation of anger is not objectionable, for 
children have the laws which are to govern them so much 
identified with the will of the governor, as to think it a 
matter of course that he should feel indignant or angry ; 
and if punished when he is in that state of feeling, they 
are less likely to be resentful or to regard him as cruel, 
than if it be done in his cooler moments. 

Sixth. — It has been said of rewards and punishments, 
that they do not change or purify our motives, bat leave the 
desire to do wrong uncorrected, while they deter us from 
the act. The Bible says, however, " train up a child in the 
way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from 
it ; and who has not seen and felt, that if we habitually 
make our actions right, our motives will gradually improve. 
It is of great importance, then, to compel children into reg- 



DISCIPLINE. 107 

iilar conduct; for if their bad desires are not gratified, they 
are starved out and at length cease to grow, while the good 
motives, from being exercised on their proper objects, are 
established in power ; in which respect the mind and body 
are under the same laws of habit. 

We have thus traced the outline of a system of discipline 
for children and young persons, embracing both rewards 
and punishments, and founded equally on the constitution 
of the body and mind. We affirm of nothing set forth, 
that it is absolutely the best which could be suggested, and 
claim nothing as original. Principles have been embodied 
which are afloat in society, for the purpose of presenting 
them in order, to those who are competent judges. In 
doing this, no book has been consulted but the Bible ; and 
that for the purpose of discovering how far its wisdom is 
in accordance with the opinions of philosophy, when directed 
to the study of man in his physical and moral constitution ; 
and on all points we have found them in perfect harmony. 
Throughout the inquiry we have plead the cause of both 
parent and child ; but above all, that of the conscientious ■ 
and benevolent teacher, who can do nothing without the 
previous labors and continued aid of the natural master. 

We have catered for home consumption — for our own 
adopted and native West — for a western college and a wes- 
tern audience — for a new people, who must devise their own 
plans of education, establish their own systems of disci- 
pline, and teach their own children, like their elder breth- 
ren of the East ; from which the West is in fact but a scion, 
transplanted, and struggling for air and light in the depths 
of the wilderness. Its tender leaves are as yet scarce un- 
folded ; but their form bespeaks the sturdy and giant oak, 
that shall live on through a thousand years, unless blasted 
with the lightnings of an angry Heaven. 

The West will not go backward in numbers — no, not till 



108 DISCIPLINE. 

her great river shall turn from the sea, and seek its icy- 
cataracts, among our distant hills. Forward will be her 
march — and day after day must add to her physical strength ; 
but she should not rejoice in this power, and become the 
Mammoth of the Union, or the bones of her prosperity will 
at last lie unburied in the valleys, and mingle with those 
of her lost archetype. 

Let all then w^ho love its name — who, beholding it in the 
dim and distant future, can now take delight in the strength 
and beauty which should mark its perfect growth, or mourn, 
while the day is yet afar off, at the vice and anarchy which 
may overwhelm it, as the angry snows of the mountain 
dissolve and swell with troubled waters the peaceful Ohio, 
till they deluge our pleasant places and rush in desolation 
along our streets — let all who feel proud that the voice of 
its infancy has called the enterprising stranger from lands 
beyond the sea — from the isles of Britain — from the banks 
of the Danube and the valleys of the Alps — from the frozen 
coasts of the Baltic and the classic shores of the Mediter- 
ranean — from the olive and the vine, — to build his cabin 
beneath our embowering sycamores — let all who would 
rejoice to see it not only the asylum of the exile from the 
uttermost parts of an oppressed world, but the chosen and 
permanent abiding place of knowledge, religion and liber- 
ty, stand forth, while it is yet in the morning of its days, 
and will bow its head to the rod of discipline, to lend a help- 
ing hand in training its young footsteps, and giving them 
an impulse on the path of loveliness and peace. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS 

BY REY. S. W. LYND, D. D. 



That great and excellent man whom all regard as "the 
Father of his Country," in his farewell address, expresses 
his conviction that religion is essential to the support of 
national morality and prosperity. He says : ''Of all the 
dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, 
religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain 
would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who would 
labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness — 
these firmest props of men and citizens. The mere poli- 
tician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to 
cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connec- 
tions with private and public felicity. Let it be simply 
asked, where is the security for property, for reputation, 
for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the 
oaths which are the instruments of investigation in the 
courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge the 
supposition that morality can be maintained without reli- 
gion. "Whatever may be conceded to the influence of 
refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason 
and experience both forbid us to expect that national 
morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle." 

I presume that this whole assembly is prepared to adopt 
most cordially the sentiments of this distinguished man. 
The religion of the Bible is the great safe-guard of our 

(100) 



110 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 



q 



political institutions. Let the principles of the Bible influ- 
ence the mass of the community, and we shall continue to 
be a free, prosperous, and happy nation. 

The chief design of the Bible is to form moral character, 
and to subserve the best interests of men through their 
entire existence. Its principles should therefore be con- 
nected with every system of mental improvement. They 
should be introduced into every place of instruction on the 
earth. No person should be considered properly educated, 
whose moral faculties have not been trained by these prin- 
ciples. Every feature of public instruction which is not 
conformed to them should be abandoned. 

It is not my design, however, to speak of the importance 
of the Bible in our halls of instruction. That was ably 
exhibited on a former occasion. I have selected as the 
subject of this introductory lecture, '' The Moral Influence 
of Eewards, in a system of Education founded upon the 
Doctrine of the Word of God." 

I use the term ^^ reward'' here in the obvious, ordinary 
sense, i. e., a recompense for something good performed. 
Not everything good which we receive can be called a 
reward. Suppose two men are desirous of obtaining an 
office, for which one is much better qualified than the 
other, and the place is awarded to him who is best qualified: 
the one who is selected receives a benefit, not a reward. 
Eewards and punishments always pre-suppose something 
that is voluntarily done well or ill. 

I take it for granted that a system of rewards and pun- 
ishments is necessary to efficient government. The laws 
of our physical organization involve such a system. He 
who regards these laws is rewarded by a healthy, sound 
action of the body, while he who puts them at defiance is 
punished with sickness, pain, and an enfeebled constitution. 
Eewards and punishments are among the essential elements 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS, 111 

of a peaceful and prosperous community. They occupy an 
important place in the moral government of God. 

The Bible clearly teaches the doctrine of reward. Moses 
chose rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than 
to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. He considered 
reproach for Christ's sake greater riches than all the treas- 
ures of Egypt. The reason assigned is, that he had 
respect unto the recompense of reward. David declared, 
*' Verily there is a reward for the righteous.'^ Eetribution 
was constantly held up by the prophets : " If ye be willing 
and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land ; but if ye 
refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured by the sword ; for 
the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." Our Lord and his 
apostles constantly exhibited this principle in the divine 
government. Paul says, " iie that cometh to God must 
believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of all them 
that diligently seek him." 

But upon what principle does reward proceed in the 
Bible? It is uniformly the reward of moral character. 
Every man is to be finally judged according to his charac- 
ter. The reward of the believer is proportioned to his 
faithfulness. God never confers his promised blessings 
upon any person according to the talents which he pos- 
sesses, but according to the moral improvement of his 
talents. He does not say to any of his followers, 
*' AVell done, good and successful,'^ but '* Well done, good 
and faithful servant." This position may be illustrated by 
two of the parables delivered by our Lord: in the one 
case, a rich man going into a distant country, committed 
to his servants different sums of money — to one, five 
talents ; to another, two. When he returned and called 
them to account, he found that they had made an equal 
improvement — each having doubled his deposit. The 
reward conferred on each was equal. His commendation 



112 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

of eacli was upon the principle of faithfulness. " Well 
done, good and faithful servant : thou hast been faithful 
over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things : 
enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." In the other case, a 
rich man departing for a distant land, committed an equal 
sum of money to each of ten servants, and commanded 
them to occupy till he returned. These servants made a 
different improvement of their capital ; one gained ten 
pounds, and another five. They were therefore rewarded 
differently : one received authority over ten cities, and the 
other over five cities ; but both were rewarded upon the 
principle of faithfulness. This is particularly stated in 
relation to the one v/ho had gained ten pounds : *' Well, 
thou good servant, because thou hast been faithful in a 
very little, have thou authority over ten cities." We may 
therefore regard it as an established principle in the divine 
government, that he will reward every man, not so much 
according to the talents he possesses, as according to his 
fidelity in improving them. 

The wisdom of this system must be apparent to every 
reflecting mind. If reward w^ere placed upon the founda- 
tion of talent, or of superior attainments resulting from 
superior talent, the mind would be diverted from the 
essential constituents of moral character, and would regard 
adventitious circumstances as formino* the basis of divine 
favor. This would naturally excite the envy of the human 
heart against those whose talents were of a higher order ; 
but when reward is based upon moral merit, there is no 
room for envy. Great talents in this case only increase 
the responsibility of the person who possesses them. They 
neither form moral character, nor change it ; and a person 
of small talents will not on that account be undervalued. 
All may reach a high moral character and a felicitous destiny 
who faithfully improve the trust committed to their charge. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OE REWARDS. 113 

The influence of this system is encouraging and animating. 
It is decidedly good in relation to the forming of character. 

Now, if it be granted that every system of instruction 
should have regard to the training of the moral faculties, 
to the formation of moral character, and that the principles 
of the Bible are the great principles by which this charac- 
ter is to be molded, then the system of reward which the 
Bible furnishes should constitute an important feature in 
the education of youth. The moral influence of reward, 
founded upon the Word of God, should be brought to bear 
upon all our institutions of learning. Let me repeat the 
principle which the Bible uniformly teaches — the reward 
of moral merit This is a point to which all our youth 
may arrive by industry and correct behavior; but they can 
not all possess the same grade of intellect, or be equally 
successful in the acquirement of knowledge, during the 
hurried term of collegiate instruction. 

Here our plans of education are generally defective. 
They found the distinction of merit upon talent and ac- 
quirement, instead of moral character. Through the 
whole course of academical and college studies, our youth 
are carried onward by the impulse of ambition. It is a 
fair race for the superiority of fame, from the starting 
point to the goal, and reminds us of the Olympic games, as 
described by the Apostle Paul : '^ Know ye not that they 
which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize ?" 
Happy would it be for society, if this principle of reward 
were confined to athletic exercises ! The medal of superior 
attainment adorns the breast of one — the first honor of 
the college pertains to one — and he, perhaps, the least 
moral of all. Could you look into the heart of that one ; 
could you see the motions of the spirit in those who failed 
to grasp this honor ; could you know the feelings of parents 
and friends on both sides, you would probably see one of 
10 



114 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

the grand causes that originate and perpetuate the disorders 
of society. I can not but regard the distinction founded 
upon mental superiority as one of the most ruinous instru- 
mentalities ever devised. 

But as this is a subject of no ordinary importance, and 
worthy of a thorough discussion, it will be necessary to be 
more definite in pointing out its evil consequences. 

1. It overlooks tlie arrangements of Divine Providence. 

The minds of some youth are not as easily developed as 
others. One of the most celebrated physicians and sur- 
geons of modern times, after having completed his medical 
course under the most favorable circumstances, was regarded 
by his instructors and particular friends as a man of very 
ordinary mind and attainments. He fell, in their estima- 
tion, below mediocrity, and it was supposed that he never 
could rise to any eminence in the medical world. More 
than once, if I am rightly informed, he was refused a 
degree ; but, nothing daunted, he went to Europe, and con- 
tinued his studies in the best schools. Returning to his 
native country, he rose to a character in the medical pro- 
fession which it is the felicity of but few to attain. But 
examples are unnecessary to an observant community. 
The facts are all around us, confirming the position that 
some minds are not as early developed as others. To 
create a distinction, therefore, by any system of reward, 
which exalts the inferior over the superior intellect because 
of the more rapid development of the former, is to over- 
look the arrangements of Divine Providence, and ei;ect our 
tribunal in opposition to that of the infinite God. 

Some youth excel in the power of memory, whose ability 
to originate trains of thought is exceedingly limited. By 
this faculty they acquire an apparent triumph, in the 
course of their education, above minds of far more vigor- 
ous mold. They receive the honor which properly belongs 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 115 

to others, even upon the principle of rewarding intellectual 
merit. 

In addition to this, many young persons have, perhaps 
constitutionally, a want of confidence in themselves; but, 
from whatever source it arises, their efforts to communicate 
thought become paralyzed, and, in many instances, the 
entire equilibrium of the mind is gone in an instant. 
Under these circumstances, the highest intellect can not 
arrive at the reward of merit for superior attainment. 
This v/ant of confidence may be conquered in after life by 
habitual practice in one sphere of operation, and by ming- 
ling considerably in society. Some, on the contrary, have 
a confidence, frequently only another name for impudence, 
which enables them to appear to greater advantage than 
others who possess more substantial knowledge. The 
reward which they receive is unjust, because it overlooks 
the arrangements of Divine Providence. 

As far as my observation extends, the manner in which 
education is frequently conducted has a tendency to per- 
petuate this error. All pupils are not equally quick in 
their perceptions ; and this may arise not from a ivant of 
intellect, but from a wide and powerful range of mind, 
which traverses connections and results before it is prepared 
to grasp a given proposition. In the meantime, the stu- 
dent is hurried forward in his class. The teacher j)roceeds 
onward according to his own well trained and accumulated 
perceptions, taking it for granted that all his pupils are 
prepared to follow him, when some of them are not yet 
perfectly settled upon the preparatory steps. I have heard 
lectures on Astronomy, Natural Philosophy, and other 
branches of science, delivered with great learning, which 
might as well have been uttered before a gallery of paint- 
ings as before a class of students, as to any permanent 
advantage which a class could derive from them. The 



116 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

number of lionorable exceptions, however, is daily multi- 
plying. 

2. If this system of reward overlooks the arrangements 
of Divine Providence, it must have, to a considerable 
extent, a withering influence upon intellectual effort. 

Let us suppose that the celebrated physician and surgeon 
to whose case I have referred, had suffered his mind to be 
influenced by his failure to obtain a degree at the time he 
expected it: what would have been its effect? In all 
probability, he never would have made another effort, and 
his invaluable services would have been lost to the world. 
Had he not been a man of uncommon firmness and perse- 
verance, he would have yielded the point, and sunk down 
under the conviction that any further attempts would be 
useless. In nine cases out of ten, utter discouragement 
would have been the result. It is to be remembered, too, 
that the maturity of manhood was in his favor. Had he 
been a mere boy, it is probable he never would have over- 
come the discouragement ; but he labored with great perse- 
verance, resolved to prostrate every interposing obstacle, 
and as he labored, a mighty intellect began to develope, 
and he became great in the midst of greatness. How 
many would have fallen when he rose. 

Take a boy of his slow development of mind, and place 
before his ambition the reward of literary fame. Let him 
toil with ardor w^orthy of the highest honor, and fail in 
securing it, as the case supposes he will. Let the fact of 
his mental inferiority be made to stand out prominent in 
the distribution of commencement honors, so that he can 
not possibly mistake the estimation in which his talents 
and proficiency are held by his instructors. Let this fact 
produce the impression upon his mind , that he is stupid, 
and it is not in human nature to resist discouragement. 
That bright gem which another system might have brought 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 117 

out and polished, and which might have excited the admi- 
ration of a world, is destined to remain buried, till the 
unveiling of the mortal part displays its glory to the gaze 
of angels. 

Take, for another illustration, a young man wanting in 
confidence. Through the whole course of his education, he 
labors under this difficulty. Every step of his progress 
upon the system of intellectual reward, has a tendency to 
convince him that he can never attain to the elevation of 
others in the school or the college. What must be the 
effect upon his mind ? What, but to increase his embar- 
rassment, to paralyze his efforts, and to leave him, in con- 
clusion, far in the rear of others. It is a fact not to be 
concealed, that a considerable number of college students 
make no effort to obtain the first honor. In schools, but 
few comparatively think of obtaining the medal. They 
perceive, at an early stage, that disappointment would be 
the result. It is certainly worthy of inquiry how far this 
may operate in producing that indolence and indifference to 
learning whicli characterize so many pupils. 

In many instances the successful candidate himself will 
dwell with complacency upon his superiority of intellect, 
and, in fucure life, remit that industry and perseverance, 
without which the highest order of mind will ultimately 
become inefficient. What is the fact in a multitude of 
instances? Students have passed through their collegiate 
course with honor, and then have supposed that their edu- 
cation was finished. No one need be surprised at this, who 
considers the motive by which they were impelled to gain 
literary eminence. Inflated with pride and vanity, they 
have looked wdth contempt on those beneath them in 
attainment ; whereas those who, during the same period, 
were not above mediocrity in their class, have, by diligence 
and perseverance, overtaken the former, passed far beyond 



118 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

them, and ultimately reached the highest point of human 
attainment. The reward of mental superiority is, in the 
one case, injurious, and in the other, unjust. 

Upon this system of reward, many young persons of 
fine mind have not a fair opportunity furnished them to 
gain the highest honors. The class is hurried forward 
before they are prepared in the understanding of first 
principles to accompany them with advantage. Now, some 
minds are so constituted that if they can not thoroughly 
comprehend every point as it is presented, they will not 
move onward at all. Their conviction is, that it is per- 
fectly useless to make any efi'ort in this rapid race for 
distinction. What must be the inevitable effect of this 
system upon their mental development and their moral 
character? It entirely perverts the great end of educa- 
tion, renders the place of instruction a hated place, and 
induces that indolence which attaches to so many pupils. 
I believe that, in many instances, instead of punishing the 
pupil for idleness, want of perception, and dislike to the 
school, the instructor should be punished. 

View this system in any light whatever, and it will be 
seen to have, in a great number of cases, a withering 
influence upon intellectual effort. One of our most 
respected teachers in this city informed me, when I named 
to him the subject of this lecture, that on one occasion he 
promised a reward to the most successful candidate in a 
particular branch of study. A little girl, a competitor in 
this contest, exerted all her strength, striving by incessant 
diligence and perseverance to secure the reward. She 
failed to succeed. What was the consequence? For a 
considerable time after this failure, she was one of the 
most trifling pupils in the school. 

3. This system has a tendency to develop some of the 
worst passions of human nature. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 119 

It will be granted by all that the most important season 
in human existence, in which lasting impressions may be 
made upon the mind, is the season of youth. This is just 
as true in relation to moral principle as it is in reference 
to intellectual improvement. This season once passed, and 
the mind, preoccupied by false principles, will resist any 
system of moral government that comes in conflict with its 
uncontrolled inclinations. Should a teacher, by any action, 
by any plan of reward, excite the very passions which the 
pupil has been taught to discipline by theory, what influ- 
ence would it have upon the mind of the pupil? What 
effect would the principle of fearing God, taught every 
day, have upon the mind of a youth whose parent should 
excite him to fight a duel, under the promise of a high 
reward, if he succeeded in killing his antagonist? What, 
if all the trustees and officers of all the schools and col- 
leges of the land should pass him a vote of thanks for the 
honorable deed ? 

If I understand the morality of the Bible, its design is 
to elevate the affections, to fix them upon proper objects, to 
perpetuate in the heart the love of God and man, and to 
discountenance every exercise of them which degrades, or 
which alienates man from man, and from his Maker. 
Hence doctrine, precept, example, and rewardy are all 
adapted in the Bible to the accomplishment of these ends. 
But of what use will it be to introduce into our schools and 
colleges the morality of the Bible, as long as the practice 
of rewarding intellectual attainment continues? This 
system fosters vanity, pride, ambition, and envy. 

It excites vanity, or that self-complacency which we feel 
in the consciousness of being superior to others. Add to 
this a contempt for those whom we consider our inferiors, 
and it becomes pride ; and pride necessarily grows out of 
this system. It cherishes in the soul ambition, the desire 



120 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

to obtain and increase this superiority. Ambition leads to 
discontent and envy, and connected with these, it is the 
most reckless, corrupt principle of the human heart. It 
is the prime mover of rebellion against the government of 
God, afflicts its possessor with an unsatisfied craving, fatal 
to happiness and virtue, and originates the most tremen- 
dous evils in society. The history of ambition is the histo- 
ry of cruelty and hlood, and lamentation and crmJdng empires. 
The progressive character of ambition is too well known to 
need illustration before this assembly. It is a raging 
flame that spreads with inconceivable rapidity, until it 
becomes extinguished for want of fuel. It is the breeze 
rising into the storm, and in the devastations of the tor 
nado concluding its course of wrath. 

Nor are we to be informed that the candidate for literary 
distinction may exercise a spirit of ambition without danger 
to society. AVho collected the materials and kindled the 
flame which burst in successive conflagrations upon the 
kingdom of France, in her revolution? Men who, by the 
pride of literary eminence, set themselves above the Bible ; 
invented a system of immorality which they falsely called 
philosophy*; unhinged the faith of the nation in the princi 
pies of the christian religion ; and threw ofl" the restraint of 
conscience and of the law of God. 

The heart of man is full of ambition. It needs a course 
moral training which shall control it to proper ends. But 
what is the influence of proposing reward to youth for 
rising superior to others in literary distinction? Is it not 
secretly and eff'ectually cherishing a wrong spirit, a spirit 
of vanity and pride, and ambition ? And can it be wise, or 
moral, or religious, to uphold such a system ? 

This principle of reward excites envy in the breast of the 
pupil, which often becomes an abiding passion, and leads 
hjm on to every means to accomplish the ruin of his rival. 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 121 

Anger and fury soon exhaust themselves, because they are 
too violent to be lasting ; but a life-time is too short to 
expend the resources of envy. How frequently has the 
candidate for intellectual honor felt as though he could anni- 
hilate his rival? Or to say the least, how often has he 
wished him dead, that there might be no obstacle between 
him and the object of his ambition? A young man at 
college is resolved to obtain the first honor. He studies 
incessantly, night and day. He prostrates his health in 
the enterprise. But the decision of the Faculty announces 
his failure. The honor is conferred on a more successful 
rival. What are his views of the result? He believes 
that he deserved the honor ; that partiality has operated to 
to his prejudice, and that he has been unjustly treated. 
What are his feelings toward the faculty and the success- 
ful candidate? We can not even approximate the fact. 
And what is the issue, as to his moral character? It has 
developed the strength of unholy passions, which not even 
death itself may eradicate, and which but for this system, 
might have been efficiently disciplined and subdued. It is 
training the spirit to vice. 

This system is opposed to the design of God in reveal- 
ing himself to men. One prominent part of duty, as 
exhibited in the Bible, is to love our fellow creatures as 
ourselves, and thus to form a peaceful and holy community 
on earth. But this system tends to alienate man from 
man, as far as its influence goes. 

It is important to distinguish between the reward of 
intellectual Buperiority, and the approbation of intellectual 
effort The latter is connected with a moral influence upon 
character, the former leaves character out of sight. I will 
endeavor to illustrate my meaning. When Mr. West, who 
became one of the most distinguished painters of his age, 
was a little boy, he showed his mother a drawing which he 
11 



122 MOKAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

had made. As an expression of her pleasure, she gave hira 
a kiss, which greatly delighted him, and increased his desire 
to proceed with his little pictures, because his mother was 
so much pleased with them. He frequently observed to 
his friends in subsequent life — '^ that t^iis kiss made me a 
painter.'^ That simple token of approbation kindled his 
desire to become a painter, while it tended to cherish a 
feeling of filial duty. But let us suppose that there had 
been a brother who made a similar effort, spent as long a 
time at the work, took equal pains, in short, did the best he 
could, and yet produced a very inferior drawing to that of 
his brother, and the mother had distinguished one by giv- 
ing him a kiss, and the other by a cold indifferent look, 
what would haVe been the effect? Every one is prepared 
to say that the mother would have adopted the best possi- 
ble course to alienate the affections of her child from her- 
self and from his brother. And can that which is wrong 
in parental government be right in the government of 
schools and colleges ? Here is a case in which the incon- 
sistency and error of intellectual rewards displays itself 
most glaringly and offensively. 

The late Mr. Fuller remarks—'' It is a distinguishing 
property of the Bible, that all its precepts aim directly at 
the heart. It never goes about to form the mere exterior 
of man. To merely external duties it is a stranger. It 
forms the lives of men no otherwise than by forming their 
dispositions. It never addresses itself to their vanity, sel- 
fishness, or any other corrupt propensity.'' But here is a 
system of reward that appeals directly to the selfishness 
and vanity of the human heart. It tends to increase the 
influence of self-love, already too predominant. 

I lay it down as a principle in morals, not to be contro- 
verted, that no motive which appeals to the selfishness, 
vanity, or pride of the human heart, can be morally 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 123 

virtuous : for if it be morally virtuous, tlien selfishness, vanity 
and pride are mo7^al virtues. This principle is fully sus- 
tained by the Bible, as has been shown in the quotation 
from Mr. Fuller. If then I have succeeded in proving, or 
if it is conceded, as I am persuaded it will be upon mature 
reflection, that the system of rewarding mental superiority 
furnishes a motive which directly appeals to these immoral 
propensities, my argument is established. Will any man at 
the present day, understanding these terms, maintain the 
affirmative, that selfishness, vanity, and pride, are moral "vir- 
tues? Will any one undertake to show that the Bible 
does address itself to these propensities as a motive to 
moral action ? And will any one say that this system of 
reward does not appeal to these propensities ? To what 
then does it appeal ? To humility ? or meekness ? or benev- 
olence? or in short, to any thing that can he regarded as a 
moral virtue? No, the system is wrong, decidedly wrong, 
and ought to be abandoned. 

It will be perceived that I treat this subject on the 
ground of high and holy principles ; and whatever objection. 
may arise upon the details, it can not in the least measure 
affect the force of these principles. Every motive to excel- 
lence in every department, must be morally virtuous or 
morally vicious. There can be no motives w^hich possess 
not the one or the other of these characters. If we ura^e 
young men to make high attainments in knowledge, that 
they may faithfully consecrate all their powers to the glory 
of God, and the good of mankind, we make an appeal to 
their sense of duty, and their obligations to God as their 
final judge. He has committed to them a mind which in 
all its developments must have respect primarily to these 
obligations. The faithful improvement of talent upon this 
principle is morally virtuous. The reward lies with their 
Maker. As far as we reward pupils for attention, 



124 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

diligence, faithfulness, and correct deportment, we employ 
a motive that is morally virtuous. All young persons have 
it in their power to receive the reward, and if they do 
not, it is entirely their own fault. It condemns them on 
the same principle that God condemns them, their own 
conscience being witness. 

But if we urge young persons to make high attainments 
in knowledge, that they may he superior to others, that 
they may occupy a high and honorable station in society, 
and excite them to this result by rewarding intellectual 
superiority, the motive is not morally virtuous. No good 
can ultimately result from it. It rewards for distinctions 
which are of no account in the sight of heaven. It exalts 
the most successful, and depresses the one who fails, where 
the failure is not from any fault of his own ; and his con- 
science testifies that he is punished upon a false and unjust 
principle. 

Whatever reputation may be awarded to knowledge, we 
should never lose sight of the fact that the moral character 
is the most important part of all that pertains to man. 
This is connected immediately with his eternal interests, 
and it is the duty of every one in society to promote the 
eternal interests of his fellow man, as well as his own. The 
formation of moral character depends, in a great measure, 
as far as instrumentality is concerned, on the moral train- 
ing received in the season of youth. While it is a solemn 
obligation, resting upon every parent, to give this training 
to his children, teachers are not divested of responsibility. 
In order to accomplish this end, the principles and motives 
of the Bible must be instilled into the mind ; and especi- 
ally the fundamental truths connected with the salvation of 
the soul through a Mediator. In addition to this, vicious 
propensities are to be eradicated. Pride, envy, malice, van- 
ity, and kindred vices must be subdued in their first motions, 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 125 

or they will acquire vigor by indulgence. Let it also be 
observed, that example must harmonize "Niih. precept Every 
course of instruction adopted, must embrace it as a friend 
and fellow-laborer. It is found by experience that when 
precept and example are at variance, the pupil inclines to 
the example. The most thorough induction into moral pre- 
cepts may be rendered useless by exciting or cherishing the 
vicious propensities of youth. In this view of the subject,' 
it is worthy of a serious consideration how far the system of 
rewarding pupils in a race for intellectual superiority, may 
influence their moral training. 

The impressions which are made upon the minds of young 
persons are generally of a durable character. Every argu- 
ment, therefore, that may be employed to exhibit the advan- 
tages of exciting youth to make high attainments in 
knowledge, by holding out the reward of intellectual supe- 
riority, is an argument in favor of forming a vidom haUt 
The motive presented becomes a ruling instrumentality. 
It becomes the main spring of action in subsequent life. 
In vain will you urge the politician, the lawyer, the physi- 
cian, to attain to eminence upon the ground of being useful, 
on the principle of glorifying God. This has been no part 
of his early training. The food of his intellectual strength 
was an appeal to his vanity, his selfishness, his pride, his 
ambition. His character was formed under this influence. 
It has incorporated itself with intellectual existence. Solo- 
mon says, " Train up a child in the way he should go, and 
when he is old he will not depart from it." But the reverse 
is equally true. Train up a child in the way he should not 
gOy and when he is old, he will not depart from it. 

4. We are not to suppose that the influence of this sys- 
tem is limited to a few college students. It is approved, and 
extensively practised. It is carried into families, and into 
the community. The influence is accumulating. It perverts 



126 MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 

the judgment in relation to the forming of right distinc- 
tions upon the subject of true merit. 

What is more natural than that the youth who has been 
taught to employ all his resources for the purpose of gain- 
ing literary fame, should esteem this the highest point of 
all true eminence ? You may give him precept upon precept 
to convince him that the formation of moral character is 
the most important part of his education ; but how is it pos- 
sible for him to believe it, when the very highest reward is 
appropriated to successful rivalship in knowledge ? He 
does not believe a word of it. If he believes the testimony, 
he must abandon the practice. If he believes the teaching 
of the practice, he must despise the precepts of his instructors. 
It is not the power of moral character which he is taught to 
appreciate by this course^ but the poiver of knowledge. And 
has not this idea pervaded the community at large ? Is not 
this system calculated to foster the pride of intellect, 
and to give a prominency to learning which does not 
justly belong to it? Is it not adapted to promote an 
almost universal impression that will ultimately be our ruin 
as a nation, if God prevent not? What is more common, 
and yet, what is more indefinite, than the prevailing motto, 
" knowledge is power ?'' The influence of language, and 
especially the language of unmotiified, confirmed maxims, 
in controlling the judgments of men, and imposing upon 
successive generations, is but little understood, even by the 
intelligent of the community. The bearing of that single 
oft-repeated motto, upon the whole circle of intellectual and 
moral enterprise, we shall probably never be able to appre- 
ciate. It is not hazarding much to say, that it has been 
associated in the minds of many with the idea of virtuous 
moral action. Hence, we are so frequently reminded that 
the principal reason why the Grecian republic did not stand, 
was because the power which knowledge confers upon its 



MORAL INFLUENCE OF REWARDS. 127 

possessor was not equalized among the whole mass of the 
body ])olitic : and we are warned that the glories which 
now blaze round our free institutions, will go out in 
everlasting darkness, unless the great mass of the people be 
enlightened. It is admitted that a healthful moral senti- 
ment is usually associated with this public enlightening ; 
but who does not perceive that it is merely subordinate ? 
The grand, the controlling idea is the power of knowledge. 
No one who has made accurate observations can fail to 
perceive, that popular intelligence has been cherished as the 
principal bulwark of our political existence. 

Knowledge throughout the mass of the community has 
an important place in the preservation of our free institu- 
tions ; but however widely diffused, however accumulated, 
it is not the most important. Here lies the error. The 
maxim that knowledge is power, has operated impercepti- 
bly on tlie minds of men, and so has the system of intellect- 
ual reward, until education has become the idol at whose 
shrine they worship. It reminds us of the uproar at Ephe- 
sus, when for the space of two hours the people cried out— 
"Great is Diana of the Ephesians.^' " Knowledge is pow- 
er — knowledge is power'' — has rolled over the earth as 
the voice of mighty thunderings. I grant that knowdedge 
is power, but it may be power for woe as well as for weal. 
The greatest enemy to the happiness of the world is a being 
of gigantic, and highly cultivated intellect — a being of 
higher order than ourselves, but filled with almost infinite 
malevolence. What would be his terrific, destroying influ- 
ence, where he omniscient? 

AVe must change or modify our motto. We must aban- 
don the system of reward for intellectual superiority. We 
must educate the noblest part of human nature, the moral 
faculties ; educate them upon the principles of God's word, 
and abandon every system which infringes upon these 



128 MORAL INFLUENCE OP EEWARDS. 

principles, or tends to exalt the power of knowledge above 
that of moral character. Whenever the motives exhibited in 
the Bible become the main-springs of human action, then, 
and not till then, will society be purified, free institutions 
be rendered permanent, and knowledge contribute to the 
happiness of man. Let the controlling impression be formed 
in the mind, that the Bible is power, that moral character 
is power : let the principles of the Bible be laid at the foun- 
dation of the edifice of knowledge, and it will be an edifice 
which neither time nor revolution can undermine, — the 
glory of the nations, the joy of the whole earth. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

BY WILLIAM WOOD, M. D. 



Gentlemen of the College of Teachers: 

I SOLICIT your attention to the means of preserving the 
health of those who are confined, either as teachers or 
pupils, in our schools and colleges ; for without the preserva- 
tion of health, the physical structure can never attain the 
perfection for which it was designed hy its Infinite Creator. 
No object is therefore of more importance, than the preserva- 
tion of health, especially at a period when the system is 
undergoing the various changes necessary for its complete 
development. Let the attainments of the scholar be what 
they may, they are worse than useless if procured at the 
expense of his physical organization. If the constitution 
be materially impaired in childhood or youth, it can never 
be restored to its primitive condition. Neither art nor 
science can arrest it in its downward course to premature 
decay. Indeed in many cases, a prolonged life is not to be 
desired, either by the victim of early imprudence or his 
immediate friends, for nothing but entire dissolution can 
relieve him from the penalty incurred by a total disregard 
of the laws of animal life. But the evils do not always 
stop here. The same penalty may be inflicted upon his off- 
spring, even to the " third or fourth generation," when his 
name will cease to be known. 

Notwithstanding this, there is no subject so much 

(129) 



130 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

neglected in our system of education, as the preservation of 
health. While the student is carefully instructed in the 
literature of Greece and Rome, nations whoso habits, laws, 
and institutions present but little that is worthy of imita- 
tion, the influence of physical and moral agents upon his 
physical structure, the means of preserving the healthy 
play of his organs, or indeed any knowledge of so compli- 
cated a machine, or the laws by which it continues to act 
through a succession of years, are carefully denied him. It 
will therefore be the object of the present lecture to call 
his attention to the importance of attaining an end so inti- 
mately connected with his present and future welfare. 

1. In order to preserve the health of the body as well as 
to procure the best possible development of all its parts, 
both teachers and senior pupils should be acquainted with 
its structure, and the various laws by which it is governed. 

This however is not the case. But few of either are 
unacquainted with the laws of inanimate matter, or the 
forces which maintain the relative position of the different 
parts of the solar system, while the number that understand 
the anatomy of the body or the means of preserving its 
vigor amid the changing scenes of life, is indeed limited. 

The efl'ects of this ignorance in the various ranks of 
society, can not be estimated. Perhaps they are most 
apparent in the higher classes, where little except rank 
and wealth are concerned in the promotion of matrimonial 
alliances, and where dissipated youth is consequently too 
frequently united to the fashionable belle, whose habits 
have been continually opposed to the preservation of health, 
or the means of securing an agreeable longevity. If 
either of the parties, or their immediate friends, were fully 
aware that the diseased lungs, the impaired nervous 
system, and the disturbed intellect would produce confirmed 
consumption, hypochondria, or insanity in their offspring, 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 131 

tliey would not have urged the consunia'tion of an alliance 
which must bring misery, and even annihilation upon their 
race. It also frequently happens that the fashionable 
youth, not aware that physical imperfection may be trans- 
mitted to his posterity, either marries before his physical 
system is fully developed, or when he does so, he unites 
himself to a girl of immature years, or one w^hose family 
has been more or less afflicted with scrofula, epilepsy, or 
some other hereditary disease, and never discovers his mis- 
take until his own children become the subjects of pulmo- 
nary derangement or mental imbecility. The same 
ignorance of the laws of animal life, renders him incompe- 
tent to select a proper physician for himself or his family. 
The artful pretender frequently gains his favor, to the 
destruction of himself or his dependents. But this evil 
increases as we approach the more illiterate. To such, 
whether rich or poor, the pretensions of a foreign igno- 
ramus, the mummery of a stupid African, the high-toned 
assertions of a botanic superficial, or the absurd declarations 
of a designing notion vender, are vastly superior to tha 
learning and experience of a skillful and scientific physi- 
cian. 

These however, are but a few of the evils resulting from 
a total ignorance of anatomy and physiology. The aspirant 
after college honors often destroys the energy of both mind 
and body by protracted study, without the least knowledge of 
his errors. Had he studied the laws of the animal 
economy with only half the assiduity with -which he pored over 
the vulgar songs of ancient nations, he would have learned 
that distinction in life could never be obtained by study 
alone. The mind, like the body, requires repose, and the 
body like the mind, can never be fully matured without 
proper exercise. 

The above remarks relate to the educated and the great 



132 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

mass that make up society. They apply to both students 
and pupils ; but there are still other and stronger reasons 
why the educator, as well as those who have charge of 
youth in the various stations of life, should be versed in 
the structure of the body and the laws by which its actions 
are regulated. 

If it be true, as it unquestionably is, that man ought 
to be trained according to his nature and in harmony with 
his faculties, how can this be done by a teacher entirely 
unacquainted with both? The instructor should not only 
know that man is composed of body and mind, but that 
these act and re-act upon each other so as to produce 
pleasure or pain, according to the external agents that are 
Drought to bear upon the one or the other. He should 
also be fully aware that there is an education of the body 
as well of the mind, and that if either be neglected, the 
student can not act, think and feel, in the manner that 
will secure the greatest amount of health, or produce the 
most happiness. AH the senses, as well as the appetites 
and passions, may be improved by judicious training. The 
skin is the most extensive organ of the body, and from its 
position it is subject to the influence of a variety of external 
agents, healthy and morbid. Its functions are complicated 
and require attention, to preserve it in a proper condition. 
The lungs too, from the office they perform, are continual- 
ly exposed to injurious impressions, from which it requires 
the skill of the physiologist to preserve them. The same 
may be said of the stomach and alimentary canal ; of the 
heart and blood-vessels ; of the brain and nervous system. 
But this is not all. They may not only be preserved in 
health, but they are capable of continued improvement 
by proper habits and exercise. This however, can only 
be effected by a knowledge of the animal economy, by which 
the teacher can perceive the relation that all these organs 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 133 

bear to the agents which surround them, as well as their 
mutual dependence upon each other. The same knowledge 
would not only enable him to give his pupil the informa- 
tion that would preserve his health during his pupilage, 
but it would also impress upon his mind the importance of 
acting in consistency with the laws of his organization 
throughout his after life. It would indeed create a new 
department in our systems of education. The importance of 
clothing, friction, and the bath, in promoting the health 
and cleanliness of the skin — the effects of vicissitudes of 
temperature, of continued cold or heat, or of a confined and 
vitiated atmosphere, upon the liver, lungs and circulating 
fluids — the result of improper food or poisonous agents, 
upon the stomach and alimentary canal, with the various 
means of promoting or impairing the healthy action of the 
organs of motion, sensation, thought, perception, and reflec- 
tion, would certainly form the most important part of a 
judicious and useful education — ^an education that would 
continually elevate man in the scale of life, until he should 
reach that excellence of both mind and body, which his 
organization is capable of attaining. This brings us to the 
next proposition in our discourse. 

2. If students and others would preserve their health, as 
well as attain the most perfect organization of both mind 
and body, they must cultivate all their faculties — moral, 
mental and physical. 

According to our present plans of education, this is not 
the case. They are framed with a special reference to the 
cultivation of the intellectual organs. The muscular 
apparatus receives no attention from the teacher. The 
student may spend his recess in muscular exercises if 
he chooses, but as he has received no instruction in relation 
to its importance, he seldom does so properly. He either 
confines himself to his room, or engages in something which 



134 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

affords but little physical exertion. But the muscular 
system is not alone neglected. The cultivation of the social 
feelings and moral affections scarcely enters into a modern 
scheme of an elegant education. Indeed a great deal of 
the literature of our colleges is entirely opposed to a heal- 
thy moral training. The student spends about one third 
of his time in the cultivation of a single faculty of the 
mind — verbal memory — for the express purpose, it would 
seem, of effectually corrupting his morals. The literature 
of Greece and Rome, as handed down to us, is little else but 
selfishness, injustice, murder and idolatry, incorporate i by 
the classic writers of that degenerate age, into a kind of 
martial glory which is poisonous to the feelings and morals 
of youth. It awakens desires, arouses passions, creates 
appetites, and produces habits in the student, at variance 
with the principles of health, or the laws of the animal 
economy. And yet this is the principal aliment upon 
which his mind has to subsist during his college course. 
If the same time were occupied in imparting to him a 
knowledge of his own nature and place in creation ; the 
conditions upon which his physical welfare, or moral and 
intellectual happiness depends ; in attempting to regulate 
his passions, and in teaching how to exercise his social feel- 
ings, as well as to eradicate his prejudices, there would be 
less destructiveness, cruelty and sensuality in the present 
generation. I do not believe that any of the desires, 
passions and appetites, with which the Creator furnished 
man, should be eradicated, even if it were in the power of 
education to do so ; but they should not be improperly stim- 
ulated by a mistaken education. Destructiveness for 
instance, will always be a prominent trait in the character 
of youth, without surrounding it with a fascinating dress. 
Among scholars it frequently becomes a disease. Our 
lunatic asylums abound with Roman heroes or Spartan 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 135 

leaders, all anxious to gratify a morbid propensity to 
commit murder or satiate revenge. Tlie teacher should, 
never permit the pupil who manifested a strong desire to 
torture animals or destroy life, to study books abounding 
in martial glory or bloody strife. Such a course would 
not only be destructive to his happiness, but it might 
derange his health and impair his intellectual powers. 

Again, the exclusive exercise of the intellect produces 
disease in some of the distant organs. It is one of the 
chief sources of dyspepsia among scholars. Digestion, like 
every other function of the body, requires the influence of 
the nervous system. When the brain is continually 
engaged in thought and reflection, the stomach of course 
sujffers. The food remains in it almost unaltered, until 
spontaneous decomposition commences. It then becomes a 
foreign substance, irritating the tender coats of the parts 
through which it passes. The continued repetition of this 
course at length produces disease, which saps the founda- 
tion of the system, and destroys the physical structure — 
the brain as well as the rest. The stomach at length 
yields, but Samson-like, it does not do so until it involves 
its enemies in the general ruin. 

But these are only a part of the evils produced by 
protracted study. The brain, or a part of it, at length 
contracts disease in consequence of the amount of blood 
contained in it. The declaration of the Eoman governor, 
although untrue in its application to the learned apostle, 
is founded upon observation and fact. " Much learning 
hath made thee mad," would unquestionably apply to 
many of our unfortunate maniacs. This kind of mental 
alienation however, is not so much the product of ''much 
learning," as it is the result of the continued exercise of a 
single intellectual faculty. If the learning were general, 
as it doubtless was in the case of the apostle, and all the 



136 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

organs of tliouglit and reflection were properly exercised, it 
wonld augment the size of the hrain, and consequently 
strengthen the mind, and increase rather than disturb its 
healthy operations, especially if the other means for the 
promotion of health were not neglected. But if the mind 
be exclusively confined to the study of language, numbers, 
geometrical figures, poetry, or any thing else of an exclu- 
sive character, the continued excitement will at length 
produce disease in a corresponding portion of the brain, and 
total or partial insanity must ultimately follow. 

This may be the case however, when there is no sensible 
lesion in any portion of the cerebral mass. As the contin- 
ued exercise of a single organ invariably augments its 
size and activity, it may at length obtain an undue influ- 
ence in the general association. It will then usurp all the 
authority, appropriate every thing for its special purpose, 
and render the student a complete enthusiast, or even an 
entire monomaniac. In order to avoid this, the exercises 
of the pupil should be shifted from one branch of study to 
another. Whenever he becomes fatigued with mathemat- 
ics, he should be permitted to try history, philosophy, or 
something else, and so of all the others. 

There is still another subject so intimately connected 
with this, that I can not pass it by without a brief notice. 
I allude to the intense excitement produced by reading 
works of fiction. The present may be termed the age of 
novel reading, and its injurious results must continue to 
operate throughout the next. Works of fiction and 
romance excite the imagination, until a state of mind is 
produced, at variance with the healthy play of reason and 
judgment. This is especially the case with females, whose 
nervous systems are naturally delicate. A physiologist 
could readily select the sentimental novel reader from the 
social circle of any country. She might entertain a 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 137 

modern knight with a mind similarly organized, with the 
incidents in Bulwer's last ; but she would be unable to con- 
tribute any thing to the higher orders of intellectual con- 
versation. Novels also give the readers unjust views of 
real life. When they come to act their parts they are 
disappointed, and a fretful and deranged sttite of mind is 
produced; a condition at variance with health, and opposed 
to social duty and domestic happiness. Works of fiction 
should therefore be excluded from the school-room. The 
student should not be permitted to read them, even in his 
private study. It is a law in physiology, that one organ 
can not absorb an undue proportion of nervous influence, 
without injuring all the others. The student therefore, 
who occupies his imagination for hours together, is depri- 
ving his physical structure of an essential agent in its 
growth and welfare. 

But while a single study, continued for a great length 
of time, disturbs the equilibrium of the intellect, a judi- 
cious exercise of the mental system is attended with the 
most favorable results. It has already been stated that a 
proper exercise of the intellectual organs augments their 
volume, power, and capacity. This is produced by an 
increased action in the capillaries of the brain. Whenever 
additional labor is thrown upon it, it calls upon the blood 
vessels for a greater amount of material to sustain it in its 
efforts. The demand is at once supplied, and the brain is not 
only furnished with enough to repair the waste, but it also 
receives sufficient to increase its size and power, so that it 
may perform all the duties reasonably required of it. This 
is an important principle in the animal economy, applying 
not only to the brain, but to every organ of which it is 
composed. The arms of gold beaters, the legs of dancers, 
and the heads of great thinkers, attest its truth. 

It is also equally as true, that a want of exercise 
12 



138 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

diminislies the size and power of either the intellectual or 
locomotiye organs. If the brain therefore, is allowed to 
remain quiescent, or as nearly so as the vital functions will 
permit, the mind necessarily continues feeble, and conse- 
quently exposed to a greater variety of morbid impressions. 
But this is not all. Every part of the animal body, 
endowed with life, requires the agency of the nervous sys- 
tem ; consequently if the brain be imperfectly developed, it 
will be unable to fulfil its duty, and the whole or a part 
of the body languishes. Idiots, Avho almost invariably have 
heads far below the ordinary standard, are never well 
formed in other respects, nor do they live for any great 
length of time. Indeed it is abundantly evident, from a 
study of the laws of animal life, that while an undue exer- 
cise of any of the organs of the body creates disease in 
some part of the system, it is equally true that a judicious 
exercise of the intellectual powers, moral feelings and 
social afiections, is productive of the best results. Some 
of our most learned men have attained the greatest age, 
and continued to the close of life in the full enjoyment of 
all their mental powers. 

3. The next subject to which your attention is directed, 
in the preservation of the health of students, is the neces- 
sity of graduating the time occupied in mental labor, 
according to age, sex, physical organization, etc. 

This is of much importance in school and college discip- 
line. Many pupils will bear confinement at their books, 
for six or seven hours per day; while others can not 
undergo more than half the labor, without the most serious 
consequences. Young children should not be kept in 
school as long as their older associates. When six years of 
age, they may be confined without injury, two or even three 
hours per day, but never longer. Before this period, they 
should never enter the school-room, except for the purposes 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 139 

of moral and physical training. Childhood is not the 
period for study ; and if spent in school or other places of 
confinement, the laws of nature are transgressed, and dis- 
ease or general debility must follow. Some of the best 
writers in our language could not study, even in the prime 
of life, more than four and a half hours per day, without 
impairing their health. What therefore, must be the 
results of a system, which compels the child, without men- 
tal discipline, and when the influence of the nervous system 
is necessary for the perfection of his physical structure, to 
remain in a crowded school-room for six hours every day ? 
But this subject received so much attention in the lecture 
on the influence of education upon the physical develop- 
ment of man, delivered before the College at its last meet- 
ing, that we will dismiss it at present. Those who wish 
to examine the objections against infant schools, and other 
associations, for the special cultivation of the juvenile intel- 
lect, are referred to the last volume of the Transactions of 
this College. 

Males in general, will bear more confinement than 
females. The minds of the former do not act as quickly 
as those of the latter. The one appears to leap at a con- 
clusion, while the other arrives at it by a regular process 
of reason and induction. The nervous system of the first 
is not endowed with as much mobility as that of the last, 
and hence the female acquires knowledge with greater 
facility ; but she can not undergo the same mental labor 
without injury. 

4. The classification of pupils is a matter of much impor- 
tance in the preservation of health. All, even of the same 
age and sex, can not learn alike. Some can commit a 
given quantity, or solve a difficult problem, in a short time, 
with but little labor, while it appears almost impossible for 
others to perform the same, however untiring they may be 



140 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

in their efforts. To require botli to remain in the same 
class, and to perform equal tasks in the same time, would 
be unreasonable. Close study impairs the constitution 
with great rapidity, especially towards the close of a pro- 
tracted pupilage, when the whole physical system is 
rendered extremely irritable by previous mental excite- 
ment. In many instances, the most important organs of 
the body, those of digestion and assimilation, are seriously 
crippled. Dyspepsia is only the forerunner of a series of 
diseases which destroys the health, impairs the intellect, 
and renders the student unhappy during the remainder of 
his life. These evils can only be removed, even in their 
commencement, by a cessation of study. A journey into 
the country, where a change of scenery and associations will 
divert the mind of the sufferer from his duties in the recita- 
tion room, will be almost the only means of cure within his 
reach. Those then, who are unable to keep pace with 
others without producing such disastrous results, should 
form separate classes ; their studies should be repeatedly 
changed ; and they should not be permitted to ruin their 
future prospects by their efforts to perform as much in a 
given time, as those more favorably organized. 

It is not however, the youth that can not learn, that is 
the most frequently injured in the school-room. It is the 
one that makes the most rapid progress — that is devoted 
to the study of some particular branch of science — and that 
requires restraint rather than stimulation in his college 
career. All the anticipations of such a youth may be 
blighted at an early period, by permitting him to study 
during a regular recess, or otherwise to perform more than 
a reasonable amount of labor, in order to overtake a class 
in advance of the one in which he is placed. 

It must also be recollected that a pupil may excel in one 
branch of literature, while he may fail in others. He may 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 141 

learn a language in a short time, and still be unable to 
make any marked progress in mathematics, or vice versa. 
A single portion of the nervous system may be extremely 
active, while others are more or less sluggish, according to 
their development. It must be remembered however, that 
a judicious exercise of those faculties of the mind which 
appear to be the most inactive, will increase their powers 
until they shall equal the others. 

5. It is a prevalent opinion, that the health of infirm 
children is either improved by confinement in the school- 
room, or that it is at least uninjured. This is an error 
productive of the worst consequences. The child that is 
unhealthy should be removed at once to the parental home, 
where it should remain until its physical organization 
is completely repaired. I say physical organization, 
because when this is perfect the health will be perfect also. 
This however, is almost invariably neglected. The 
unhealthy youth of the city or country is too frequently set 
apart for a profession, because he is unable to undergo the 
labor of the counting-room, the work-shop, or the farm. 
Such a course is fatal to the advancement of science, inju- 
rious to the cause of education, and destructive to the pros- 
pects of the youthful invalid. Without health of body, his 
mind can never be properly developed ; and hence he will 
be unable to grapple with the robust youth, in his efforts 
for distinction and honor. He must therefore either be 
contented with a contemptible mediocrity ; or conscious of 
his inferiority, must spend his life in useless regret, unable 
to contribute any thing* to the advancement of his profes- 
sion, or to t]).3 welfare of the society in which he is placed. 

Notliing contributes more towards the preservation of 
bealth, among all ages and classes of students, than exer- 
cise in the open air. To be useful, it must not be so severe 
as to exhaust the powers of the physical system, while it 



142 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

should be varied in such manner as to call into action all 
the muscles of volition. It should also be continued until 
the approach of fatigue, but in no instance until prostration 
is the result. This is better accomplished by an unre- 
strained indulgence in youthful sports, than by the meas- 
ured step or mechanical efforts of gymnastic exercises. 
Boys enjoy the former, and will engage in them with 
activity, while the latter soon become a task, because they 
are prescribed by a teacher. In cities, where play-grounds 
are limited, gymnastics may be beneficial ; but in country 
schools, and even in cities where the means of unrestrained 
exercise can be obtained, they should not be urged upon 
pupils. 

It is to be regretted that girls are not allowed in gen- 
eral, as much exercise as boys. If they were permitted to 
pursue their own inclination, in extensive play-grounds, 
for a reasonable time every day, the female school would 
not present so many specimens of hurried breathing, short 
cough, flushed cheeks, and palpitation of the heart, — all 
of which are only the harbingers of more fatal maladies. 

It would be difficult to decide what kind of exercise 
would be the most beneficial in the preservation of health, 
in schools and colleges. As already mentioned, it would 
vary with the location of the institution. If surrounded 
by large play-grounds, many of the games at ball would 
be both useful and interesting. The exercise is not usu- 
ally severe enough to produce prostration, while the 
excitement of the game is sufficient to divert the mind from 
its previous engagements. But let the play be what it 
may, the teacher should never lose sight of those employed 
in it. All do not require the same quantity of muscular 
exercise ; hut where they engage promiscuously in an 
exciting play, an ambitious rivalry is encouraged, and each 
is anxious to continue until the contest is decided. This 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 143 

may prove injurious to boys that are inclined to disease of 
the lungs, especially if they remain in a damp atmosphere 
after they cease their exertion, and before they recover from 
their fatigue. 

Manual labor schools have been projected for the purpose 
of rendering the necessary exercise to the student profita- 
ble, in a pecuniary point of view — thus enabling him to 
defray his expenses at the same time that he is improving 
his mind and invigorating his body ; but it is questionable 
whether they will afford all the advantages anticipated. 
Exercise, to be useful, must not only extend to all the 
muscles of voluntary motion, but it must also so far employ 
the mind as to divert it from its former engagements. In 
many of the mechanical pursuits it is possible for the mus- 
cular apparatus to perform a great deal of labor, while the 
mind is completely absorbed in the study of some difficult 
problem, which had entirely occupied it for some time 
previous, for it is well known that even sleep can not 
always cover with oblivion the mental excitements of the 
school-room. The student will occasionally solve a ques- 
tion in his dreams which had baffled all his eflPorts the 
previous day. That kind of exercise therefore, which 
affords no relief to the most important part of the pupil — 
the mind — will be of little avail in the preservation of his 
health. The material and immaterial parts of man are so 
intimately connected that the improvement of the one will 
generally benefit the other ; yet it is possible for either to 
be exhausted, nay, entirely worn out, while the other is 
under the most wholesome discipline. The student for 
instance, might walk, or even work at a bench, until he 
became absolutely fatigued, and yet his mind be as fully 
occupied with his lessons as if in the midst of his recita- 
tions. Indeed this species of exercise might not only do 
no good, but be decidedly injurious, according to the 



144 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

temperament of the student and the times at which it is 
taken. 

It has already been mentioned, that the various parts of 
the system are not only supplied with blood in proportion 
to the amount of labor they perform, but that the differ- 
ent organs contain more when in a state of activity than 
when at rest. In sleep it is equally distributed through- 
out the body, according to the size and vascularity of the 
various organs, but when the system is active there is a 
continual ebb and flow from one to the other as the 
will, in part at least, determines. Thus, if the mind is 
intently engaged in the study of any particular subject, 
the brain makes greater demands upon the heart and arter- 
ies for blood than it does when inactive. The same is the 
case with the stomach. After it receives the proper quan- 
tity of food there is a flow of blood into it, to enable it to 
perform its part in the grand scheme of animal nutrition. 
So also of the muscular system. When walking, playing, 
or laboring, the vital fluid finds its way, in increased quanti- 
ties, into the extremities, or the other parts where the 
action is the greatest. Now if the student engages habitu- 
ally in intense study immediately after his meals, the 
stomach may be unable to obtain the quantity of blood re- 
quisite to carry on the process of digestion, and disease is 
the result. The brain retains what it can control, as long 
as it is required, and consequently the most urgent demands 
of the stomach will be unavailing. 

But suppose the student arises from his meals, and goes 
to the workshop, or walks over the same grounds he has 
traversed an hundred times, for the exercise he thinks high- 
ly important for the perservation of his health, what is the 
result ? In either case he may perform a great amount of 
of physical exertion and still his mind be absorbed in intense 
thought. The brain, the stomach, and the muscles of 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 145 

volition, will tlieii simultaneously demand their appropriate 
stimulus, but they can not all receive it. The stomach, 
being less under the influence of the will than either the 
brain, or the muscles of the extremities, yields its claims, 
and the unaltered food passes onward through the remain- 
der of the abdominal viscera, irritating the parts with which 
it comes in contact, until it is finally ejected. The contin- 
ued repetition of this course results in an entire overthrow 
of all the organs of animal life. As the food does not digest, 
the fluids of the body become impaired, and the system is 
no longer able to protect itself from the attacks made upon 
it from without. It then yields to its fate and returns to 
its original elements. 

The student who adopts the plan just mentioned wonders 
why he is dyspeptic — why his energies are daily more and 
more prostrated — why he is constantly growing more and 
more languid ! His teachers tell him to take more exer- 
cise, but this he finds only increases his complaints ; besides 
he is sure he takes as much as his associates, who only phy 
while he walks abroad or labors in the workshop ; and yet. 
they are robust and healthy. It is true he takes quite as 
much exercise as they, but then he takes it at different 
times and in a different manner. It is probable that their 
choice is the result of accident, for but few of the best schol- 
ars, in our literary institutions, are at all acquainted with 
the laws of ^ animal life ; consequently they are unprepared 
to give their pupils the best instruction for the perservation 
of their health. Be the exercise what it may, no student 
should take it immediately after his meals, or when his mind 
is occupied by his daily studies. When he walks, works, or 
plays, he should think of the business of the moment, and not 
allow his mind to be occupied by the studies of the class-room. 

The most proper time to take exercise is immediately 
before meals, and the best place is in the open air. The 
IS 



146 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

student who rises early, and walks rapidly over two or three 
miles, amusing himself with the various objects which fall 
under his notice, will not only eat his breakfast with a bet- 
ter appetite, but he will advance much faster in his studies 
than those who pursue an opposite course. If he have a 
taste for natural history, botany, or mineralogy, he may 
make his tour both pleasant and useful. While he selects 
specimens for his cabinet or herbarium, he may find abun- 
dance of enjoyment in study of the habits of the animals that 
present themselves to his notice. An hour after breakfast, 
which time he may spend in some innocent amusement, he 
is prepared to resume the labors of the day. He should 
spend at least two hours in the same way after dinner, and 
before supper he should take his axx?ustomed ramble, or res- 
ort either to the play-ground or work-shop, for the exercise 
which is so essential to sound sleep and a healthy circula- 
tion of the vital fluids. He may spend a part of the eve- 
ning in reviewing his lessons, but he should always retire 
to rest in time to get six or seven hours sleep before the 
following morning. 

The student who pursues this course, will not leave his 
alma mater, the pale and sickly shadow of what he was 
when he entered it. Instead of the hectic flush, the sunk- 
en eye, the trembling step, the deep sepulchral cough, the 
irritable temper and the feeble intellect, which so fre- 
quently accompany the student to his home, he will return 
in the full possession of a sound constitution and an invig- 
orated mind, fully competent to act his part in life, whether 
it be upon the field, in the forum, the halls of legislation, 
or elsewhere. 

7. The next subject we shall examine is that of the con- 
struction and ventilation of the school-room. 

It has already been stated that the college, academy and 
school-house, should be situated in open grounds, where the 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 147 

pupils of eit-her sex, could enjoy the advantages of unre- 
strained muscular exercise. If possible, it should also be 
surrounded by trees, shrubs, and flowering plants. A sterile 
enclosure is neither so pleasant nor so healthy as one cov- 
ered by vegetation. Many of the best medical writers 
affirm that miasmatic exhalations, so fatal to the health of 
all classes in marshy districts, seldom if ever reach build- 
ings surrounded by trees of a moderate height. This is 
probably true, for vegetables absorb many of the gases 
injurious to the health when mixed with air inspired. Eows 
of trees, standing between swampy lands or wet prairies 
and family dwellings, often afford ample protection from 
the poisonous gases continually arising from the decomposi- 
tion of animal and vegetable matter. But plants and flow- 
ers not only protect the pupils of literary institutions from 
the effects of deleterious gases ; they also afford a healthy 
and varied prospect, while their appearance and study are 
calculated to excite the better feelings of the heart, and 
thus elevate the mind from the study of abstract proposi- 
tions to the contemplation of the beauties of nature and the 
perfections of nature's God. 

School-rooms should always be larger in proportion to 
the number of their inmates, than other buildings. 
The ceilings should be higher, and if possible there should 
be an opening communicating with the atmosphere without, 
in the most elevated portions of the different apartments. 
K the rooms were spacious they would contain a larger quan- 
tity of healthy air, while the openings would permit the es- 
cape of that which was too much heated, with many of the 
gaseous vapors arising from the lungs and external surface 
of the pupils. They should also be warmed by air from fur- 
naces underneath, or where this is impracticable, the grates 
or stoves should be placed much nearer the floor than they 
usually are. Fire-places are always preferable to stoves, 



148 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

and wood to coal, but as both are more expensive, the latter 
may be used safely with proper precaution. In all the 
churches, school houses, or even private dwellings, that 
have fallen under my notice, the fire is entirely too much 
elevated. It should be remembered that the specific gravity 
of cold air is much greater than that of warm, consequently 
when it is admitted into heated rooms it sinks at once 
to the lowest level. Rarified air also rises, so that when 
the fire is placed at a distance above the floor, the lower 
extremities are continually immersed in a cold medium, to 
the manifest injury of the general health. This subject 
has thus far escaped the notice of writers upon hygiene, 
but it is certainly one of much importance, not only to the 
welfare of the inmates of schools and colleges, but also to 
that of public assemblies or private families. 

Seats more or less elevated, should be provided for pupils, 
according to their respective ages. The heads of the small- 
er scholars should be as nearly as possible on a level with 
those of the larger, for cold air is not the only fluid that 
descends in the school-room. Some of the gases thrown off 
from the system are extremely injurious to health, and if 
they form a large proportion of the air inhaled, they are 
speedily destructive. Among these may be mentioned the 
carbonic acid, which, being heavier than atmospheric air, 
descends and forms a stratum upon the floor, more or less 
thick, according to the number of pupils and the length of 
time they are confined in the room. Small children, if 
placed on low seats, would therefore be exposed to the worst 
of consequences ; while the larger scholars, from their eleva- 
ted position, would remain entirely secure. This subject 
is also of sufficient importance to command the attention of 
those engaged in the education of youth. 

Imperfect ventilation is too often a source of disease in 
crowded school-rooms, especially in the winter season, where 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 149 

many teachers think it advisable to keep them as close as 
possible in order to exclude the cold air from without ; a 
practice which not only destroys the feeble in early life, but 
also implants in the most healthy the seeds of premature 
decay. 

The blood in its passage through the lungs, requires pure 
air for the expulsion of the poisonous matter which it 
accumulates in the course of the circulation. When it 
leaves the lungs, its color is a bright scarlet, but when 
it returns, it is changed into a dark modena, and hence it 
is termed black blood. The former is found in the arteries, 
and the latter in the veins. The red or arterial blood not 
only furnishes the materials for the growth of the body, but 
it also contains whatever is necessary to replace the worn- 
out particles which are continually escaping from every part 
of the physical system by means of the skin, lungs and 
mucous membranes, as well as the remainder of the organs 
of secretion and exhalation. On the other hand, the dark 
or venous blood is loaded with gases and salts, which render 
it poisonous to every part of the animal, except the tubes- 
and cavities in which it is contained. Its composition must, 
therefore, be changed, before it can enter the arterial sys- 
tem, or perform any part in the grand process of animal 
nutrition. This can be accomplished only by an atmos- 
phere containing the proper quantity of oxygen, and in 
order to provide this, the lungs are continually calling for 
a fresh supply of pure air, for at every inflation a part of 
the oxygen, entering the lungs, disappears, and its place is 
supplied by a poisonous compound wliich would speedily be 
destructive to the general health. It is therefore, evident 
that a given quantity of atmospheric air will support life 
only for a limited period. When the oxygen it contained 
is removed, it becomes an engine of destruction, as the 
holds of prison ships and the confined apartments of captive 



150 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

soldiers too frequently attest. What therefore must be the 
condition of the pupils in a crowded school-room, where the 
doors and windows are kept so completely closed that neith- 
er the air without can gain admittance, nor that within 
make its escape ? 

But the consumption of oxygen and the consequent for- 
mation of carbonaceous and other gases, is not the only source 
of contamination in the atmosphere of the school-room. 
There is more or less that is equally injurious to health, 
passing off from the surface of the body, which mixes with 
the air already polluted, and thus the whole mass becomes 
more unfit for respiration. It is also probable that there is 
some change in the electric condition of the air of a close 
room, which renders it unhealthy. 

Confinement in a close room will not alike effect all the 
pupils of a large school. Those inclined to disease of the 
lungs will suffer most, and it is quite certain that the seeds 
of consumption are frequently implanted in the lungs of 
those predisposed to the disease, by improper management 
during the period of their education. 

School-rooms, crowded manufactories, and other places 
where persons are daily congregated, should therefore be 
well ventilated, even in the coldest weather. They should 
also be so arranged, that this ventilation would not be left 
to the fancy or caprice of teachers or master workmen, for 
but few of either are aware of its paramount importance. 

As healthy air should always contain a proper proportion 
of moisture, a vessel containing two or three gallons of water 
should be so placed that a continued evaporation would be 
kept up when the room is occupied, especially if it be heat- 
ed by close stoves. If warmed from furnaces beneath, the 
air should pass through a reservoir of water before it is 
admitted into the room. 

As a committee has been appointed to report the best 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 151 

plan for the erection of school houses, at the next meeting 
of the College, I shall dismiss the subject, by remarking, 
that whatever may be the shape or size of such building, it 
should always be furnised with apertures for admission of 
pure air, and the escape of that which has become noxious. 
This may probably be done by dropping a sash on one side 
of the room, and raising another on the opposite. The 
pupils, however, should always be removed from the vicini- 
ty of the aperture which gives admission to the air, especi- 
ally if it be either cold or damp. 

As school houses are now erected, even the imperfect 
ventilation they receive is injurious to many of the pupils. 
The temperature of the room is often so high that the inmates 
are thrown into a profuse perspiration, when the windows 
and doors are opened, and the house is filled with a flood 
of cold air, which contracts the pores of the skin, drives the 
blood from the surface, arrests the functions of the skin, and 
thus produces colds, pleurisies, or disorders of the lungs, which 
too often terminate in consumption or other disease equally 
fatal to the unfortunate pupil. Indeed, consumption often 
commences at a very early period, and it is quite probable 
that the discipline of the school-room frequently pushes it 
onward to a speedy termination. 

8. Cleanliness is every where an important element in 
the preservation of the health, but in no place is it more 
necessary than in the school-room. If either the furniture, 
or the persons and clothes of the pupils are allowed to remain 
filthy, the functions of the system, corporeal and mental, 
must speedily suffer. The dust upon the floor is soon re- 
duced to an impalpable powder, which mixes with the 
atmosphere, and thus finds its way into the lungs, where it 
either remains until it is ejected by coughing, or it sinks 
deeper and deeper into the bronchial tubes, which are soon 
rendered entirely impervious. When fixed, it becomes a 



152 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

most destructive irritant, and the vis medicatrix naturce 
exerts all its powers to procure its expulsion. A cough, 
more or less severe, immediately commences. At first it 
is short and dry, but eventually it is attended with a slight 
mucous expectoration ; sometimes bloody, at others puru- 
lent. It fails, however, in its efforts ; the cough increases, 
the cheeks become red near their center, but pale and 
sallow elsewhere, the system is emaciated, fever and night 
sweats occur, respiration is short and difficult, the chest ap- 
pears contracted, with a pain more or less acute in one of 
the sides, the teeth are white, and the eye glows with an 
unusual fire. Still the appetite remains good, and the un- 
fortunate sufferer confidently expects a speedy recovery. 
The symptoms, however, continue to increase until death 
closes the distressing scene, and a promising youth falls a 
victim to the unhealthy condition of a neglected school- 
room. 

All students will not suffer equally if placed in a dusty 
house. Those inclined to pulmonary disease will suffer 
most, and hence persons having narrow chests, or a chronic 
cough, should never be exposed to the dust. They should 
never be compelled to sweep, nor should they remain in their 
places while others are engaged in it. 

9. The attitude of the pupil in the school-room, is of 
much importance in the preservation of his health. Cur- 
vature of the spine is often produced by the unnatural 
position so frequently assumed by scholars engaged in writ- 
ing, drawing, painting, or any thing else which admits of 
leaning forward, or laterally, or of the elevation of one of 
the shoulders above the other. When engaged in any of 
the above named exercises, or indeed in any thing else, the 
student should stand or sit erect. If he lean forw^ard, 
with either his breast or side upon the edge of the desk, he 
may become the subject of a permanent deformity before he 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 153 

is aware of it. But this is not the worst. Curvatures of 
the spine continue to increase, during life, unless the sub- 
ject of the disease submits to a most rigid course of medical 
treatment. The spine is composed of a number of short 
oval bones, with processes extending backwards from the 
posterior surface. These bones are piled upon each other 
and tied together by a movable intervening substance, 
and ■ a dense ligament extending from one process to the 
other, throughout its whole extent. When the body is bent 
forwards, the anterior edges of the bones press upon each 
other, and absorption follows. As it progresses, the centre 
of gravity is removed, the weight of the body is gradually 
thrown forward, and the absorption, and consequent curva- 
ture, continually augmented until the deformity is complete. 
Sometimes the inclination is lateral ; at others both lateral 
and forwards, when the distortion is immense. The only 
remedy for this disease is proper regimen and a continued 
horizontal position, which must be maintained until the 
defective bones regain their original figure. If the curva- 
ture is forward, the same object may be accomplished by rest- 
ing on the hands and knees. 

The pupils in most danger of deformities of the bony 
system, are such as are predisposed to scrofula, or such as 
are slender in form, of sedentary habits, and take but little 
exercise. Females, from their organization and sedentary 
habits, are more frequently the subjects of spinal curvature 
than males. In some countries, and perhaps in some por- 
tions of our own, ten per cent, of the boarding-school misses 
are afflicted with diseases of the spine, the result of mis- 
management in the school-room. To prevent a catastrophe 
so fatal to the young female, she must take regular exer- 
cise in the open air, live on a wholesome nutritious diet, and 
stand or sit erect in the school-room. 

But deformity of the spine is not the only evil resulting 



154 PHYSIC Ali EDUCATION. 

from leaning forward upon a desk when engaged in study. 
The pressure upon the breast bone decreases the cavity of 
the chest, and thus predisposes to diseases of the lungs and 
breast, which are equally as destructive to the well-being 
of the patient, although they are less obvious to the vision. 
If the student stands as much as possible, when writing or 
drawing, the evils complained of will not only be obviated, 
but the tone and vigor of the muscular system will be in- 
creased, and the general health thereby improved. 

9. The diet of the pupil, although mostly beyond the 
control of the teacher, should be regulated with a special 
reference to his situation. It is unquestionably true that 
man requires a mixed diet, or one composed of both animal 
and vegetable food ; but in early life, and especially when 
the youth is confined in the school-room, the latter should 
form the greater proportion. Some however, require more 
animal food than others. If the temperament be sanguine- 
ous and the person is of a full habit, much meat will be 
decidedly injurious ; but if it be lymphatic and the circula- 
tion and actions are sluggish, a larger quantity of stimula- 
ting food will beneficial. The diet of children under twelve 
years of age should be decidedly vegetable, with a proper 
quantity of milk and its products. 

Students, and others of sedentary habits, err more in the 
quantity than in the quality of their food. They eat too 
much ; more than the stomach can digest, before it is called 
upon to receive an additional supply. In this condition the 
pupil cannot study. He may pass a few hours in a kind of 
dreaming meditation, but he will be unable to accomplish 
any thing until the stomach has disposed of its " stock of 
provisions." Indeed it is well that he is unable to concen- 
trate his mind upon his lessons, for were he to do so, he 
would cut off a part of the nervous influence from the stom- 
ach, which would be fatal, in time, to his general health. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 155 

The drinks of cliildren should never he stimulatino*. 
Strong coffee and tea should he entirely forbidden ; as well 
as wine, heer, or any thing else containing alcohol, even in 
the smallest quantities. 

To conclude, I will again repeat that children should sel- 
dom, if ever, he placed in school hefore they are six or sev- 
en years of age. In cities they are sent to school too young. 
Until the time specified, they should he solely under the 
protection of the parent. Their education should be strictly 
moral. They should be taught to love and venerate every 
thing that is good. The parent should rest satisfied with 
seeing his children attain the seventh year in health, with 
their chests fully expanded, and their muscular systems 
well developed by unrestrained exercise. But even then 
the confinement should be gradual — at first consisting of 
of an hour or two in the day, and gradually increasing to 
four or five. Numbers of children have been destroyed by 
being prematurely placed in school. To make the child a 
prodigy of learning when almost a babe, it is sent to an 
infant school, where it is kept still (an outrage upon na- 
ture ), for hours together, or until the system becomes 
weary of restraint, when it falls asleep and thus escapes 
the watchful eye of the teacher. It is true it will learn by 
a kind of imitation, and appear to solve problems astonish- 
ing to the visitors, but when closely examined it will be 
found that it has learned the whole hy repeating what it 
was told, without understanding the first principles of the 
subject under consideration. 



THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL AND 
INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 

BTC.E.STOWE, D.D. 



This College has repeatedly declared, that the Bible is 
the book of all others best calculated, when properly used, 
to develop and exercise the intellectual and moral powers 
of the young. In this decision we are sustained by the 
unanimous voice of the most scientific teachers in all those 
countries where education has been most successfully 
reduced to a science. 

Knowing that God possesses every intellectual and moral 
excellence in the highest perfection, we should naturally 
infer that if he were to make a revelation of himself to his 
creatures, it would be one calculated to produce and cher- 
ish these excellencies in them. All experience shows that 
the Bible is a revelation of this character, that it does 
exert an influence such as we should suppose might proceed 
from an intelligent and benevolent Deity. As God always 
works by means, our present inquiry is, what are the 
means by which this influence is exerted ? 

In other words — 

I. What are the characteristic peculiarities of the Bible, 
which give it its enlightening and elevating influence over 
the mass of mankind ? 

1st. The history contained in the Bible is peculiarly 
calculated to enlarge the mind and elevate its views. 
(156) 



THE BIBLE A MEANS OF IMPROVEMENT. 157 

All faithful and well written history is calculated to 
produce this effect, hut the Bible history possesses many 
properties peculiar to itself. Other histories inform us of 
the rise and progress of particular empires and cities ; the 
Bible history opens to us that of the world itself, and the 
story of the several families by which its empires and cities 
were founded. Other histories relate to us the scenes in 
which masses of men have acted, and from effects endeavor 
to conjecture the causes which have produced them ; but 
the Bible history discloses the hand of a superintending 
Providence, and before the events take place, lays open 
to us the causes themselves as seen by Him who knoweth 
the end from the beginning, and calleth the things that 
are not as though they were. 

Other history, when it records the sorrows of oppressed 
virtue and the triumphs of successful vice, when it tells us 
of innocent nations crushed by the hand of ruthless tyranny, 
of the patriot and benefactor misunderstood and persecuted 
even unto death, and the heartless demagogue trusted, 
applauded, loaded with wealth, and honor, till he obtains 
power to trample on those by whose aid he has ascended, 
can only lament the evils which it can neither explain or 
obviate ; but the Bible history opens to us the bosom of 
God, deducing order from confusion, light from darkness, 
good from evil. All the intellectual and moral advanta- 
ges which can be derived from the best of human history, 
is conferred by the Bible history to a much greater extent, 
and in a far higher degree of perfection. 

2. The biography of the Bible is peculiarly calculated 
to sharpen common sense, and improve the affections. 

It does not exhibit men merely on the stage of public 
life and acting the part assumed for the occasion, but it 
takes them just as they are in themselves, and develops those 
traits that come directly home to the business and bosom 



158 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

of all mankind. It is not the biography of the outer man 
in his robes of ceremony, and shown off by the false lights 
of a deceptive world, but it is the biography of the inner 
man, disclosing his real character and his most secret 
motives, as estimated by the standard of unchanging light 
and eternal truth — it is the biography of the heart, in the 
light of Grod's countenance. Its point of view is domestic 
and individual, its mode of representation simple and 
truth- telling. Here are no palliations of crime from 
personal favor, no exaggeration of defect from personal 
hate, no concealment and no distortion of facts to favor a 
prejudice, but every thing is written down just as it occur- 
red, and the record is the portrait of the transaction. 

Eeading human biography generally, is like meeting 
men in company, where each one makes an effort to appear 
to the best advantage possible, or like seeing them in the 
public thoroughfare among strangers or enemies, where 
their actions and words, and very looks are liable to mis- 
representation and suspicion ; but reading the Bible bio- 
graphy is like seeing the man in his own home and 
associating with him in his daily business, where the 
mouth expresses the meaning of the heart, and the actions 
take the exact shape which the affections give them, 
unmodified by adventitious influences. He who studies the 
biography of the Bible, therefore, becomes acquainted with 
men as they really are, sees human nature as it actually 
exists, and ascertains to a certainty the consequences which 
must result from different combinations of moral traits, and 
from various modes of action. 

The simple herdsman^s life of the patriarchs, wandering 
from mountain to plain, and from wood to spring, in the 
luxuriant valleys of the Euphrates and the Jordan — the 
busy legislation and the energetic national development 
of Moses and his associates, the hardy warriors of the 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 159 

period of the Judges, the stately courtiers of the monarchy, 
the faithful prophets and the flattering hypocrites of the 
degenerate days of the captivity, the little hand of reform- 
ers amid the gigantic corruptions of the Eoman Empire, 
are all portrayed, with the same simple, unpretending 
fidelity ; and though the strokes are often nothing more 
than the mere outlines of the profile, without coloring or 
finish, yet every feature is so distinctive, so characteristic, 
so true to nature, that the contemplation of it adds a new 
and complete idea to our previous stock of knowledge. 

Hence it is that so many preachers, who have had no 
advantages of early ciucation, but are diligent students of 
the Bible, become so distinguished for their sagacity, their 
knowledge of mankind, and their power of wieldiDg mind 
by the fr»rce of an^ument, and it is an early familiarity 
with the Bible, combined with habits of acute observation, 
that hah raised up from the ordinary walks of life, so many 
eminent statesmen in our own country, an illustrious class, 
of whom Koger Sherman and Benjamin Franklin may be 
considered fit representatives. 

3. The views which the Bible gives of the human mind 
and human duty, or what may appropriately be called the 
intellectual and moral 'philosophy of the Bible, are in the 
highest degree favorable to intellectual and moral improve- 
ment. 

No one can doubt that our power of improvement must 
be very much afiected by the accuracy of our knowledge 
respecting our capacities and susceptibilities. He who 
knows what his mind is capable of, and what his heart 
demands, can take a much shorter and surer way to the 
attainment of excellence, than he who starts in ignorance 
and runs at random. The requisite knowledge is all con- 
tained in the Bible, in the form most convenient for gen- 
eral acquisition and best adapted to general use. 



160 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

It is true there are no metapliysical definitions and no 
formal classification of the powers of the mind, nor any 
artificially arranged system of ethics. 

But the Bible was dictated by Him who knew what was 
in man, and Him who created the soul and gave it all the 
powers which it possesses (Ps. 94 : 9 — 10) : and He that 
'planted the ear, shall He not hear ? He that formed the eye, 
shall He not see? He that teacheth man knowledge, shall not 
He know ? 

These subjects are treated in a manner entirely practi- 
cal, and the statements are made in the form of aphorisms, 
maxims, proverbs, parables, and direct appeals to con- 
sciousness. Instead of saying that man has all the moral 
powers of a free agent, and is therefore hound to obey Gody 
it exclaims (Ezek. 18 : 30, 31, 32) : I will judge you every 
one according to his ways, saith the Lord God. Eepent 
and turn yourselves from all your transgressions ; so in- 
iquity shall not be your ruin. Cast away from you all your 
transgressions whereby ye have transgressed; and make 
you a new heart and a new spirit, for why will ye die. 
Por I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith 
the Lord God, wherefore turn yourselves and live ye. 

Instead of saying that man is a created being, and con- 
sequently limited and dependent on his Creator, it asks 
(Eom. 9 : 20 — 21) : Shall the thing formed say to Him that 
formed it, why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the 
potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one 
vessel unto honor and another unto dishonor ? 

Instead of afiirming that man has a conscience, which when 
properly consulted, will warn against evil and lead to good; it 
expostulates (Luke 12: 57): Why even of yourselves 
judge ye not what is right ? 

Instead of arguing, that whereas God forgives us great 
offences against Himself, we therefore ought to forgive the 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 161 

small offences of our brethren against us, it propounds the 
beautiful apologue (Matt. 18: 21 — 35) of the forgiving 
master and the unformvina: servant. 

Instead of stating in the abstract form, that avarice is 
insatiable, and therefore he who indulges it will be exposed 
to constant want and misery, it says (Prov. 30: 15) Horse- 
leech hath twin daughters, Give, Give. A pair of twin 
daughters, both of them having the same name, and that 
name is Give. Always clamoring, never satisfied. 

In this manner our intellectual and moral powers and 
the duties arising from them, our relations and duties to God, 
to each other, and to ourselves, are all brought clearly to 
view in the Bible. The method is so striking, so interest- 
ing, so impressive, and the system so pure, so elevated, 
and so complete, that no one can make it a study without 
adding largely to his stock of knowledge, and feeling the 
transcendent excellence of real goodness. 

4. The disclosures which the Bible makes respecting the 
condition and destinies of the human race, are admirably 
fitted to settle and tranquilize the mind, and give it that 
self-possession so essential to the highest improvement. 

The present condition of the human race is to the con- 
templative mind, without the light of revelation, inexplica- 
ble and distracting. There is such a mixture of good and 
evil, such exaltation and such meanness, capacities so 
admirable directed to ends so base, so magnificent provision 
and so miserable performance, such sublime conceptions 
and great desires, terminating in vanity and vexation of 
spirit, so much of the Deity, and so much of the brute, the 
feverish beginnings of an existence evidently of celestial 
origin, and so soon choked by the damps of the grave, that 
the thoughtful man, without revelation, is driven either to 
hopeless melancholy and misanthropic feeling, or to the 
14 



162 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

pleasures of sense, exclaiming, Let us eat and drink — for 
to-morrow we die. 

The most ingenious and beautiful theory to account for 
the present state of man, independently of revelation, is 
probably that of Plato. He supposed that all the souls 
which exist or have existed in human bodies, once dwelt in 
the spiritual world in the immediate presence of God, 
where they saw all things perfectly beautiful and good; 
and that it is the recollection of these perfect ideas that 
gives to the human mind the scattered fragments of shin- 
ing excellence which it still possesses, and the longing 
desires for something better which it still manifests ; and 
while its present connection with the gross earth makes it 
brutal and sensual — that the remedy lies in repressing the 
sensual, and cherishing the faint reminiscences of our former 
spiritual state, till they brighten again into beatific vision 
in the presence of God, beyond the grave. But the pre- 
existence of the soul, utterly without consciousness of any 
such state, can never become an object of firm belief — and 
to the remedy, how can man be just with God without a 
Eedcemer, or repress the carnal and cherish the spiritual, 
without a Saviour and a sanctifier ? And what encourage- 
ment to strenuous and long continued eff'ort, without some 
surer foundation of hope than the mere conjecture of a poor 
fallible mortal like ourselves. 

But the Bible solves the mystery of our existence, brings 
life and immortality to light, and lays the foundation of a sure 
and certain hope. The Bible speaks authoritatively, and 
maintains its claims by miracles, by prophecy, by the voice 
of God speaking audibly from heaven, and by the whole 
course of providence manifest on earth. Here we are told 
that God created man upright, breathed into him his own 
spirit, thus making him a living soul, destined him to 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 163 

immortal life ; and this is the origin of all we see that is 
excellent and spiritually aspiring in man. That man being 
a free agent, voluntarily fell from the state wherein he 
was created, debased and brutified his soul by sensual indul- 
gence, brought death into the world, and all our woes, that 
"earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat sighing 
through all her works, gave signs ojp woe that all was lost f 
and this is the origin of all we see in man that is degra- 
ded, and wretched, and deathly. The Bible further tells us 
that Grod so loved the world, that he gave his only begot- 
ten Son that whosoever believeth in him might not perish but 
have everlasting life — that he is able to save unto the 
uttermost all that come unto God through him — that as 
sin had reigned unto death, even so should grace reign by 
righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord — 
that he is the great Saviour who shall bring us back again 
to yet greater glory than was lost by our first apostasy. 
Here the mind can rest and be satisfied, here it has encour- 
agement for all its eff'orts, food for its largest desires, and 
objects worthy of its highest aspirations. The tendons that 
bind the heart to heaven, and which were broken off by 
vice, leaving the severed part to throb like the divided 
nerves of an amputated limb, for something which it could 
not reach, are again united, and the aching wound is 
healed. 

The Bible afibrds us the further satisfaction of exhibiting 
God as arranging all the affairs of this world with refer- 
ence to the salvation of his chosen. By the light of proph- 
ecy, we see him determining ages beforehand, the fate of 
mighty empires and haughty kings, so as to secure the 
spiritual safety and highest moral improvement of his 
elect ; and as we witness the successive exact fulfilment of 
those predictions, they strengthen into absolute certainty 
our convictions of the unalterable determination of God to 



164 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

accomplish fully his revealed purposes, and become a surer 
foundation of faith than even miracles themselves (2 Pet. 
1:16—19). 

5. The glimpses into the invisible world which the Bible 
affords us, greatly expand the mind and exalt the aims of 
the heart. 

You probably have seen how wonderfully the study of 
astronomy, the disclosure of the numerous worlds of the 
planetary system, with their startling phenomena and 
amazing revolutions, expands and elevates the youthful 
mind. Much more is this effect produced by the transient 
and overwhelmingly glorious glimpses of the spiritual 
world which we occasionally catch, while passing along the 
lattice-work of biblical representation and imagery. The 
first chapter of Ezekiel, the sixth of Isaiah, the book of 
Eevelations, many passages of Job and the Psalms, almost 
bring the Christian into the company of the Shepherds that 
inhabit the Delectable Mountains, who take desponding 
pilgrims to the top of the high hill called Qhar, and give 
them the telescope by which they discover the pearly gates 
of the celestial city and catch a glance at the glory within. 
(See Bunyan^8 Pilgrim.) 

6. The character of God as represented in the Bible, is 
in the highest degree ennobling and purifying in its influ- 
ence on the mind. 

God is a being purely spiritual, almighty, eternal, won- 
derful, omnipresent, omniscient, holy. Ex. 15: 11. Isa. 
57: 15. Ps. 139: 7—12. 1 Sam. 2: 3. Job 37: 16. 
Ps. 147: 5. Ps. 40: 28. Deut. 32: 4. 1 John 1: 5. 
Who is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods, who is like 
thee? glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing won- 
ders? The high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, 
whose name is holy — Whither shall I go for thy spirit, 
etc. The Lord is a God of knowledge — by him actions are 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 165 

weiglied. Hast thou not known, hast thou not heard, that 
the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of 
earth, fainteth not, neither is weary ? there is no searching 
of his understanding. Dost thou know the balancings of 
clouds, the wondrous works of him who is perfect in knowl- 
edge ? Great is our Lord and of great power — his under- 
standing is infinite — his work is perfect — all his w^ays are 
judgment; a God of truth and without iniquity, just and 
right is he. God is light, and in him is no darkness at 
all. God is a spirit. 

He is a father, kind, compassionate, forbearing. Ps. 
103: 8—19. Neh. 9: 17. Ex. 34: 6—7. Like as a 
father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that 
fear him. Thou art a God ready to pardon, gracious and 
merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness. The Lord, 
the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering, abun- 
dant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, 
forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin. 

God is a sovereign, dignified, inflexible, unchanging, 
determined on Justice. Ps. 11 : 4. 2 Chron. 20: 7. Jer. 
10:10. Ps. 96:13. Ps. 33:11. Jer. 16: 12, 13. Vs. 
9 : 17. The Lord's throne is in heaven, his eyes behold, 
his eyelids try the children of men. Oh Lord God of our 
fathers, art not thou God in Heaven, and rulest not thou 
over all the kings of the heathen, and in thy hand is there 
not power and might so that none is able to withstand 
thee ? The Lord is the true God. He is the living God 
and an everlasting King. At his wrath the earth shall 
tremble, and the nations shall not be able to abide his 
indignation. 

7. The character of Christ also, as exhibited in the 
Bible, is the most wonderful help to elevation and purity 
of life, that has ever been devised to aid poor human na- 
ture in its struggle against sin. 



166 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

We are altogetlier more powerfully affected by example, 
than by precept or command, and a system of ethics, com- 
pared with the living man who embodies the system in his 
whole life, is like the mimic automata of the show-room 
compared with the organized army of living soldiers in the 
field. 

In the character of Christ, in his deportment, his actions, 
his words, as recorded in the Bible, we have a living exem- 
plification of every virtue enjoined in the Bible, a living 
picture of what every one who perfectly believes and perfectly 
obeys the Bible, must actually be. And the constant con- 
templation of such a character, how salutary must be its 
influence on every sincere admirer ! A character possess- 
ing every virtue, without any of the corresponding failings 
toward which in imperfect human nature each virtue 
leans : courage without rashness, humility without mean- 
ness, dignity without arrogance, perseverance without 
obstinacy, affection without weakness ; the most perfect 
simplicity united with all that is majestic in high minded 
self-respect ; always acting in exact consistency, and never 
ruffled by anger nor depressed by despair, in all the severe 
and aggravated trials through which he passed ! 

How short his stay upon earth ! scarcely three years of 
public life ! and yet how glorious, how permanent the 
results ! A world disenthralled, corrupting and debasing 
superstitions overthrown, men placed in circumstances of 
improvement by which they are continually advancing 
their social and public welfare ; and now, nearly two thous- 
and years after his death, while other founders of religious 
systems of more recent origin have already lost their hold on 
the human mind, the influence of Jesus of Nazareth is yet 
rife and fresh, and more extensive and powerful than it 
has ever been before ; still increasing, and strengthening, 
and brightening, and evidently going on till the affections 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 167 

of every human heart shall be gained, and every tongue 
shall confess him Lord! 

How can it be otherwise than that the contemplation of 
so remarkable, so pure, so exalted a character, should 
afford a most essential aid to every one who is sincerely 
striving after excellence ? 

In this subordinate sense ever, it may be most truly said 
that Jesus Christ is made of God unto us wisdom and right- 
eousness, and sanctificaiion and redemption, (1 Cor. 1 : 30). 

Moreover, the character of Christ is exhibited under cir- 
cumstances the best calculated to affect us, under circum- 
stances of deprivation, sorrow and extreme distress, volun- 
tarily assumed for our sake, — so that whatever losses or 
sufferings we may endure in the cause of truth and right- 
eousness, still our deprivations and sorrows can never equal 
his — and whatever temptations we may have to despon- 
dency, to impatience, or to murmuring, they can never be 
equal to the temptations successfully encountered by him. 
Always may it be said to Christians in reference to the 
agony and bloody sweat of Gethsemane — Ye have not yet 
resisted unto blood, striving against sin (Heb. 12: 4) ; and 
it will always be appropriate to say to them. Ye know the 
grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, 
yet for your sake he became poor, that ye through his pov- 
erty might be rich, (2 Cor. 8 : 9). 

8. The peculiar style of the Bible, and the difficulties 
which attend its study and interpretation, are in the highest 
degree favorable to intellectual and moral improvement. 
The style of the Bible is that of an ancient and oriental 
people, and to enter fully into it, one must know.something 
of the history and manners, the character, soil, and produc- 
tions of these nations. What a vast amount of historical 
and geographical knowledge of the most valuable kind is 
now imparted to the children of our Sabbath Schools, in the 



168 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

course of their Bible recitations — more, far more, I will 
venture to say, than was formerly obtained at our best 
public schools. The style is peculiarly adapted to excite, 
awaken and exhilarate. 

The difficulties which attend the interpretation of the 
Bible, are also a great means of improvement. Their 
solution requires attention, close thought, and vigorous 
effort. It is exercise which gives power, and without exer- 
cise the mind can never be developed. The Bible was 
never intended to relieve men from the responsibility of 
thinking, searching, and judging — the labors of intellec- 
lectual and moral action — but on the contrary, to increase 
the responsibility, to call forth this action. It was never 
designed to pamper the soul in idleness, and raise it to 
heaven, as lifeless matter is raised by a cord ; but it was 
intended to rouse up all the energies of the soul, to pro- 
mote its most healthful growth, and by filling it with the 
spirit of heaven, to cause it to rise toward heaven sponta- 
neously, as to its own appropriate element. God did not 
lay out the physical world with railroads and canals in all 
convenient directions, and cause habitations ready furnished 
to spring out of the ground like trees, and to every habita- 
tion provide a garden well supplied with all that might 
be necessary for the maintenance of a family ; though all 
this might have been quite as easily produced hy creative 
power, as the present system of rivers and mountains, and 
vegetation. 

But without a necessity for the labors of agriculture, 
architecture, and the arts of life, the powers of man would 
never be developed. Why is not man as well provided 
with the means of self-support in infancy as the brutes? 
In those fruitful climes where there is any approach to 
this condition, man, for want of exercise and effort, becomes 
almost a brute. The physical world is wisely so arranged 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 169 

as to give the highest and most vigorous exercise to the 
intellectual and physical energies of man ; and every part 
of this exercise is essential to his intellectual and physical 
development. 

So the Bihle is adapted to give the highest exercise to 
the intellectual and moral powers of man, and were this 
exercise to he superseded, his intellectual and moral pow- 
ers would never he developed, the Bihle would cease to be a 
blessing, and man would sink to the brute. Accordingly, 
wherever the Bible is the people's book, there is found an 
inquisitive, active, enterprising, and intelligent popula- 
tion ; but wherever the Bible is withheld from the people, 
there is a corrupting mass of sluggish mind, ready to be 
trampled upon by the foot of every tyrant. 

There are no difficulties in the Bible but what may be 
fully mastered by diligence, thought, and prayer — and 
difficulties of this kind are an essential part of that discip- 
line to which God subjects us in order to fit us for his 
kingdom : according as it is said, the God of all grace, after 
that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, 
strengthen, settle you. (1 Pet. 5 : 10). 

Finally, the Bible is the direct channel of communion 
with the mind of God, and that in two respects. 

Being a revelation of the will of God to man, it is, of 
course, as far as it extends, a transcript of the mind of 
God, in human language, and thus we may say it natur- 
ally and of itself brings us in contact with the mind of our 
Creator. 

But there is another and still more important respect in 
which it is the channel of communion with the Divine 
mind. When read by the true christian with devotional 
feelings, the spirit of the living God moves upon the 
mind through the medium of the word, enlightening, 
quickening, exhilarating the soul, pouring into it floods of 
15 



170 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

light and rivers of joy, from every rill of that sajcred 
stream whose waters make glad the city of our God ; and 
it is to this spiritual peculiarity of the written word that 
the sacred writers generally refer when they ascribe to it its 
instructive and life giving influence. 

We now proceed to investigate 

II. The reasons why many who are in the habit of read- 
ing the Bible, make so much less progress than they should 
do, in obtaining a knowledge of its contents, and acquiring 
those qualities of character which it is so eminently fitted to 
produce. 

1. They mistake the intention of the Bible in respect 
to its method of communicating instruction. 

They know that the Bible is given as a guide to truth 
and happiness ; but they would make it not only the guide, 
but the carrier also. A guide simply points out the way, 
and in order to be benefitted by his services, we must keep 
in sight of him, have our eyes open and our attention 
awake, and use our own limbs and muscles to go forward 
in the way he directs. 

The traveller would be sadly mistaken who should sup- 
pose that following a guide was the same thing as taking 
passage in a steamboat or stage coach, in which he can lie 
or sit at his ease until he reaches his journey's end. 

Because the Bible contains the revelation of God's will 
to man, many seem to imagine that it ought to be so con- 
strued that the most heedless, negligent and perverse 
reader, should come into immediate possession of its sub- 
lime truths ; that it should even offer a premium to indo- 
lence and be the reward of stupidity ; that there should be 
not only a fair possibility of understanding its communi- 
cations, but an impossibility of misunderstanding them ; that 
its truths should not only be susceptible of interpretation, but 
unsusceptible of perversion. To one who comes to the 



AND INTELLECTTJAL IMPROVEMENT. 171 

Bible with such preconceptions as to its design, and with 
only such preparation as results from this prejudice, we 
must say in the language of the woman of Samaria, *' Sir, 
thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep." 

Almost every sentence of the Bible is calculated to put 
all such fancies to flight, and confound the man who indul- 
ges them. It is as if a man should purchase a farm cele- 
brated for its fertility, do nothing to it in seed time, and 
walk through his fields in harvest amazed that all this 
boasted fertility produces nothing but weeds and brambles: 
not thinking that it is a maxim which holds equally true 
in husbandry and in religion, that whatsoever a man soweth, 
that shall he also reap. 

In the former part of the discourse, we illustrated the 
fact that the Bible was intended not merely to communi- 
cate knowledge, but also to give exercise to the intellect 
and moral powers, and that by affording this exercise it 
conferred its greatest blessing on man. Accordingly none 
of its rules of duty are mechanical, and its plainest max- 
ims are not to be understood without thought and compari- 
son. The celebrated precept, "All things whatsoever ye 
would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to 
them," is not to be received without reflection, absolutely, 
and unmodified by circumstances. Otherwise the thief, 
when arrested by the sheriff, might say to him, " if you 
were the thief and I were the sheriff, you would wish me 
to let you go, and now therefore, whatsoever ye would that 
men should do to you, do ye even so to them." 

So all the precepts of the Bible, which are of course 
the plainest parts, require thought and honest reflection, in 
order to understand their application in the various cir- 
cumstances by which duty is modified. Much more stri- 
kingly is this true, in regard to the abstruse doctrines of 
the christian faith, and the sublime discoveries of revelation. 



172 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

respecting the spiritual world. Neither the careless 
reader, nor the captious word-catcher will ever comprehend 
the meaning of the Bible ; the one will perish in his own 
stupidity, and the other will he snared in his own crafti- 
ness. There is nothing froward or perverse in the words 
of revelation. " They are all plain to him that under- 
standeth, and right to them that find knowledge. The 
integrity of the upright shall guide them, hut the per- 
verseness of transgressors shall destroy them." Who is 
wise, and he shall understand these things, prudent and 
he shall know them. For the ways of the Lord are right, 
and the just shall walk in them. But transgressors shall 
fall therein. Hos. 14 : 9. 

According to the express declarations of the Bible itself, 
it requires both integrity and prudence on the part of its 
readers, as an essential condition of benefit from it. And 
no less are integrity and prudence required on the part of 
teachers and parents in the use which they make of it with 
their children. 

2. They read disconnectedly. 

From the remarks already made, it is easy to perceive the 
danger of taking any single sentence of the Bible, (or indeed 
of any other book), and pressing it to the extreme verge of 
its literal meaning, unmodified by circumstances, or by the 
connection in which it stands. The whole complexion of 
a thought generally depends on the circumstances in which 
it is uttered, aud the connection in which it occurs ; and he 
who isolates a sentence from these connections and circum- 
stances may, without violating any rule of grammar or 
rhetoric, utterly pervert the author's meaning ; and a really 
honest and sound mind which contemplates the sentence 
thus alone, may be entirely misled by it. Thus the apos- 
tle Paul says, *' bodily exercise profiteth little," (1 Tim. 
4: 8) a sentiment taken absolutely, utterly at variancse 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 173 

with common sense and all experience. But when we look 
at the connection in which the phrase occurs, we find that by 
bodily exercise, the apostle designates the physical expres- 
sion of religious emotion, such as rites, ceremonies, ascetic 
mortifications, tones and gestures, as contrasted with true 
inward godliness. And in this view of it, it is a sentiment 
which all experience confirms, and is one of those preg- 
nant sayings of Paul, which show his deep knowledge of/ 
human nature, and his elevated conceptions of the nature 
of religion. 

He therefore, who reads the Bible disconnectedly, how- 
ever closely he may attend to particular passages, is con- 
tinually liable to misapprehension and mistake ; and much 
the greater part of false reasoning in support of erroneous 
theology, is founded on perversions of this sort. There is 
great temptation for committed theologians to abuse the 
Bible in this way, and the unexpected turns which are thus 
sometimes given to a Biblical expression, by shrewd, 
untaught minds, help forward the same abuse. 

A French Canadian peasant once asked me what I 
thought of that text where our Saviour told his disciples 
when they went out to preach, not to take two coats with 
them; (Matt. 10: 10). I replied that the connection 
plainly showed that it meant to caution the disciples 
against anxiously providing for themselves food and clo- 
thing, but to depend for both on those to whom they min- 
istered. " No," says the Canadian, " it must be something 
more spiritual than that ; I reckon 'tis as much as if he 
had saicl to them, 'you must not go into one town and 
hold up the Calvinist doctrine, and then into another town 
and hold up the Universalist doctrine, just according to 
what is most popular. ' " 

One who would come to a correct knowledge of the truths 
of the Bible, must rigidly resist both the theological and the 



174 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

allegorical temptations to this species of abuse, and look aa 
carefully at tlie whole connection of a piece as its single 
expressions ; and for this purpose the chapters and verses 
into which it has been broken by translators and editors, 
must often be entirely disregarded. 

3. They read without thinking. 

This I apprehend is a very general fault. A person 
takes the Bible in his hand and opens it, his eye glances 
over the words, and they are successively reflected from the 
curious little mirror in the back part of the eye-ball — and 
this is all that he does towards reading the Bible. No idea 
has been received, no thought awakened, no feeling excited ; 
and if interrupted in his reading at any moment, it would 
be quite impossible for him to tell what he had been 
reading about the moment before. Do you expect that such 
sort of reading is to be of any service to you ? It is 
utterly useless even for the purpose of teaching you the 
mechanical art of reading — it leaves the understanding as 
barren as if your eyes had been wandering with the 
fools to the ends of the earth — and your heart as unbenefit- 
ted as if your ears had been listening to the croaking of 
frogs. However you may pour contempt in this way on 
human authors, do not thus insult the God of heaven. 
When you take up what professes, and what you admit to 
be a revelation from Him, let your mind at least be awake 
to what it communicates. Enter not the holy of holies to 
doze or fall asleep by the awful oracle which brings the 
voice of God from heaven to earth. 

4. They read without expecting or trying to understand 
what they read. 

We make no effort after that whose attainment we con- 
sider hopeless ; and those who have often failed to under- 
stand, for the reasons already specified, acquire a habit of 
reading without understanding, which is fatal to their 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 175 

progress in knowledge. It is a habit exceedingly difficult 
to break when once formed, and it often steals upon us 
unawares, after strenuous efforts have been made to subdue 
it. It is a habit much encouraged by reading without dis- 
crimination or selection, the most difficult parts of the 
Bible as well as the easiest, in equal portions, with the 
same preparation and the same amount of time and thought 
devoted to them. In the early periods of the formation of 
this habit, the plainer parts of the Bible are read with 
some perception of their meaning ; but the half-understood, 
and the entirely unintelligible occur so often, and are 
passed over with such entire indifference and so much as a 
matter of course, that the habit in time extends itself to 
all portions of the sacred word, and at length it obtains so 
complete a mastery, that the reader is rather surprised 
than otherwise, when a real thought happens by some acci- 
dent to find lodgment in his mind from the pages of the 
Bible. This habit is no less reprehensible and fatal than 
the one mentioned just before ; it is indeed but a contin- 
uance and completion of the habit of thoughtless reading. 
Always when we take up the Bible, expect benefit from its 
perusal — if there occur passages which you can not under- 
stand entirely, at least make an effort to get all the light 
from them you can — the effort itself will do you good — 
and the darkest texts of the Bible will cheer you with 
gloamings and twinklings of light, if not with a full flood. 

5. They read without distinguishing the different kinds 
of composition in the Bible, or the different character of its 
several writers. 

The Bible was composed by more than 40 different wri- 
ters, scattered through a period of 1600 years, possessing 
every diversity of character, and living under the influence 
of every different kind of climate, country, government 
and mode of education. Inspiration, so far from destroying 



176 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

does not even affect individuality of character ; and there 
is the same kind of diversity in respect to style, manner, 
and mode of thought in the Bible, as we find in any equal 
number of English writers from the reign of Alfred to the 
present time. Isaiah is as different from John as Milton 
is from Cowper ; and the style of Ezekiel is no more like 
that of Matthew than the style of Dr. Johnson is like that of 
Franklin or Cobbett. Since such great diversities exist, 
how can those writings be read intelligently without recog- 
nizing these diversities? And how can one read the 
Bible understandingly, unless he carefully considers which 
of the Biblical authors it is tliat he is perusing, and what 
the characteristic peculiarities are of that author's style. 

But there is not only diversity of authors, but great 
diversity in the different species of composition. There 
is plain historical narrative, close logical argumentation, 
bursts of impassioned eloquence, the highest flights of poe- 
try, simple didactic maxims, statute-laws, allegories, pro- 
phetic visions, lively dramatic dialogues, grave continuous 
speeches, indeed all the varieties which can be found in 
any national literature, all compressed within the compass 
of a single volume, and that of not very large size. The 
reader's attention must be awake to those different species 
of composition, and he must be able to feel the difference 
when they occur, whether he can call them by their names 
or not, in order to read the Bible understandingly. What 
should we think of the intelligence of the reader, who 
could read a page of Edwards on the Will, pass directly to 
a hundred lines of Pope's Homer, and then take up one of 
Patrick Henry's speeches in Congress, and not once be 
aware that the mode of composition had undergone the 
slightest change ? But in many parts of the Bible, you 
will find in equally short compass, diversities quite as 
great as those. As examples I would refer you to the 14th 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 177 

and 15tli chapters of Exodus, or to the 1st and 2d chapters 
of St. Luke's Gospel. 

In order to understand the Bihle, or derive henefit from 
its perusal, it is indispensable that the reader be able to 
recognize such diversities as these. It is not at all neces- 
sary that he should in all cases be able to call the different 
sorts of composition by their appropriate rhectorical names ; 
he need not be able to say, this is narrative, and this is 
argument, this is poetry, and this is eloquence, and this is 
drama ; but his mind and his heart must be sufficiently 
awake to feel the diversities when they occur, whether he 
knows their appropriate names or not. 

6. They read without the necessary preparatory knowl- 
edge, and without the habit of comparing the statements 
of the Bible with the other works of God in nature, and 
with the course of His Providence in the government of 
mankind. 

The written word is not the only revelation which God 
has made of Himself to man. The apostle Paul declares, 
in respect to those who had never been favored with the 
teachings of inspiration, that God had not left them all 
without witness in that He did good, and gave rain from 
heaven, and fruitful seasons (Acts xiv: 17), and that the 
invisible attributes of God are clearly seen from the crea- 
tion of the world — being understood by the things that 
are made — even his eternal power and godhead (Rom. i : 
20.) The course of Providence and the works of nature 
bear testimony of God, as well as the written word ; and 
no one of these modes of revelation can be fully compre- 
hended without the aid of the other ; and no development 
made in any one of these will contradict any development 
made in either of the others. How would the inhabitant 
of another planet, who knows nothing of earth, or of man, 
or of God's dealings with man, be able to comprehend the 



178 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OF MORAL 

Bible, even if it were all placed before bim in tbe plainest 
terms ^ybich bis own language would afford? It would all 
be to bim an inexplicable enigma — a tale of wonders as 
mysterious and unwarrantable as tbe visions of tbe Zend 
Avesta, or tbe appalling marvels of tbe old Egyptian 
priestbood, for want of tbat knowledge wbicb tbe Bible 
everywbere takes for granted as already in tbe reader's 
possession. 

We, tlien, can not expect fully to comprebend tbe Bible, 
unless we are careful observers of wbat God bas done in 
tbe stupendous works of nature, and attentive listeners to 
tbe voice of God in bis dealings with mankind. Tbe more 
extensive and accurate tbis observation is, the better ; but 
a sufficiency of it for the interpretation of the essential 
truths of the Bible is within the reach of the most limited 
means. 

In respect to us, also, the Bible was written at a remote 
period, in a remote land, and amid institutions, habits, and 
customs altogether diverse from our own. To understand 
its allusions, therefore, and enter into its spirit, we must 
know something of the ages and countries and institutions 
amidst which it originated. Many passages which, inter- 
preted by our own customs, seem inexplicable and absurd, 
are at once cleared of all obscurity, and appeal* with the 
utmost propriety, when illustrated by the customs or history 
of the appropriate period. What more puerile, for exam- 
ple, than the earnest and repeated prohibitions in the 
Mosiac law, under tbe severest penalties, against boiling a 
kid in its mother's milk, or weaving a garment of linen 
and woollen mixed. (Exod. xxiii: 19; Lev. xix: 19). 
But when we know that the former was designed to 
restrain the Israelites from all approach towards cruelty to 
animals, which then was carried to such a revolting extent 
in the religious rites of their pagan neighbors, who were 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 179 

accustomed to boil a living kid in its mother's milk, and 
sprinkle t]ie liquid over their gardens, orchards, and vine- 
yards, to render them fruitful, and the latter was a preser- 
vative against the extravagance and idolatry which they 
had been so long accustomed to see and admire in Egypt — 
linen and woollen mixed being the material of which the 
most expensive robes of ceremony were then made, and 
wrought with gorgeous embroidery of the plants, and ani- 
mals, and other symbols of their imposing and dark 
mythology, the statutes appear at once rational, and in 
the highest degree necessary. So of numberless other 
passages in the Bible, and some which have called down 
the heaviest denunciations of the unbelieving infidel. 

But how shall teachers and parents in common life, and 
even children, come in possession of this necessary prepara- 
tory knowledge ? Thanks to Sunday Schools and to the 
friends of these most excellent institutions, this knowled2:e 
is no longer hidden in ponderous volumes locked up in 
dead languages, and to be seen in the libraries of the 
learned ; it is transferred to the cheap and attractive vol- 
ume made for the child's use ; it can be found in every 
Sunday School depository, and it ought to be attainable in 
every Sunday School library. 

7. They read witliout practical self-application. 

The Bible is a storehouse of supplies for all the moral 
wants of man ; but a storehouse is of little value unless 
its treasures be appropriated. Men seem much less selfish 
in regard to their moral than in regard to their physical 
wants. If God had provided a great storehouse for the 
physical wants of man — a place where dwellings and fur- 
niture, and clothing, and food, and especially money, were 
to be found ready prepared for them, we should probably 
see each one striving to help himself first, without giving 
himself much concern about his neighbor's supply. Nay, 



180 THE BIBLE AS A MEANS OP MORAL 

it would not be surprising if one should happen to get 
there first, a good Christian man, too — one professing to 
love his neighbor as well as he loves himself — that he 
should grasp at all which he can possibly carry away, 
without troubling himself in the least with the disagree- 
able reflection that there will be little or nothing left for 
his poor neighbor who stands directly behind him, and 
whose claims and necessities are much 2;reater than his own. 
But in regard to their moral supplies, men are far more 
generous. They usually help all their neighbors to an 
abundant share before they think of taking any them- 
selves. Notwithstanding, there is this peculiarity about 
the supplies of the Bible : that, however large a quantity 
any one may take to himself, there is just as much left 
for everybody else as there would have been if he had 
taken nothing. The well is always full, for it is living 
water that supplies it, and it runs in as fast as all men. 
together can draw^ it out. 

o 

Eead the Bible, then, with self-appropriation of its in- 
structions and its admonitions, its warnings and its rebukes. 
Never fear that you will deprive your neighbor of any- 
thing that rightfully belongs to him ; for there is not the 
least danger of that ; and in regard to your spiritual im- 
provement, at least, there is no harm in your taking care 
of yourself first; and, by the way, this is the very best 
method you can adopt to take care of others: first cast 
the beam out of thine own eye, then shalt thou see clearly 
to cast out the mote that is in thy brother's eye. 

8. They read without devotion. 

The Bible is peculiarly a devotional book, and, to be 
fully comprehended, it must be read with a devotional 
spirit. No learning, no attention, no study will compen- 
sate for a lack of this ; there is no substitute for it what- 
ever. There is a peculiarity in this which lies deep in 



AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 181 

human nature. Anatomists tell us that when a liml) is 
amputated, the nerves and tendons which originally termi- 
nated in the severed part and connected it with the hrain, 
are liable to painful convulsions and throbs, which the 
patient seems to feel in the limb that is lost. So by sin 
we have cut off our soul from its natural connection with 
God, and the severed nerves and cords which bound the 
soul to its Creator are continually vibrating and throbbing 
towards Him, and thus fill the heart with unutterable 
emotions, which can find their center and resting point 
only in God. (See Rom. viii: 16, 26, 27). 

The Bible is full of passages designed to meet and 
relieve those billowings and heavings of the soul; but 
without a devotional spirit such passages can never be 
appreciated or comprehended. A man utterly destitute 
of poetical taste might as well undertake to read Homer 
or Milton with the expectation of pleasure, as to attempt 
to enter into and feel the sublime beauties and pathos of 
the Bible without a devotional spirit. The truly devotional 
reader seldom goes far wrong in any part of the Bible, 
however poor his opportunities or limited his means of 
information, for the spirit itself beareth witness with his 
spirit ; and the habitually undevotional reader, however 
powerful his talents or great his attainments, can ve^-y 
seldom reproduce to his own mind a Biblical thought in its 
exact Biblical shape ; for the natural man receiveth not 
the things of the spirit of God ; they are foolishness unto 
him ; neither can he know them, because they are spiritu- 
ally derived. 



ADDEESS ON THE FOEMATION OF SOCIETY, 

ITS LEADING DEVELOPMENTS, AND THE PROPRIETY OF INCLU- 
DING THE ELEMENTARY PRINCIPLES OF OUR GOV- 
ERNMENT IN A COURSE OF POPULAR 
INSTRUCTION. 

BY HON. JOHN M'LEAN. 



There are few subjects, connected either intimately or 
remotely with education, which have not lost much of their 
novelty by frequent discussion. No one at this day can 
hope to present views original and striking, on themes 
which have called forth the research and exhausted the 
thoughts of so many distinguished minds. He must be a 
gleaner, who passes over the fields which have been har- 
vested by others. But the ever varying circumstances of 
society afford new aspects to the subject of popular educa- 
tion, which justly entitle it to the highest consideration. 

I shall not enter upon this subject at large ; but, having 
been invited to attend this Convention, and deliver an ad- 
dress appropriate to the occasion, I shall present a few 
general thoughts on the formation of society, on its leading 
developments, and on the propriety of including the ele- 
m-entary principles of our government in a course of pop- 
ular instruction. 

Much has been spoken and written on what has been 
called the golden age^ — an age in which man existed in 
(182) 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 183 

comparative innocence, and was governed by liis own 
impulses, free from all restraint. This age, as repre- 
sented, never existed, except in the imaginations of 
poets and novelists. It is a state contrary to the order of 
our being. 

Combinations for purposes of protection and depredation 
result from the nature of man. Unrestrained, he seeks 
things which are not his own, and is ready to defend those 
of which he is in possession. His revenge leads him to 
trespass upon the persons of others, and his fears cause 
him to rely for safety on the power of numbers. This, if 
not the universal propensity, pervades the mass of men, in 
a state of nature, to so great an extent as to agitate and 
give character to the whole. And here is the origin of 
government. It is founded in necessity ; a necessity which 
results from the passions of our nature. 

This view is not in accordance with that which has been 
taken on this subject by some distinguished writers. In 
his " Kepublic," Cicero says: "A nation is a collection of 
individuals, united by a common law and a common gov- 
ernment. The origin of such an union is not the weakness 
of man in an individual state ; but the social instinct of 
our nature. We are not formed to live separately from 
each other ; and wherever men are found, it is in a state 
of society." The same doctrine is held by Grotius. Mon- 
tesquieu says : " Men are all united by birth. A son is 
born by the side of his father, and there he stays. This 
is society and the origin of society." 

That the social instinct of our nature, and the ties of 
relationship, have always had their influence, no one can 
doubt ; but they can only lead to the formation of society 
on a very limited or patriarchal scale ; and an association 
or government beyond this, must have a wider basis ; and 
a government once formed becomes more or less perfect, as 



184 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

circumstances tend to advance or retard the progress of 
society. 

In its first stage it may "be a simple association, for the 
subjugation of enemies or the protection of friends. But 
this step, when once taken, necessarily leads to the adoption 
of rules for the government of the associated community. 
These rules are modified and enlarged, as the association 
requires. 

The simplest form of government is that in which all 
powers are vested in an individual ; and this is called a 
despotism. The most complicated is that of a federal 
republic, consisting of distinct sovereignties, like our own. 

Whatever form the government may assume, to sustain 
itself it must concentrate the energies of those who formed 
it. There must be means provided to carry into effect the 
sovereign will, whether that will shall reside in an indi- 
vidual, in the people at large, or in a selected number of 
individuals. Isolated, man can accomplish but little; 
associated, it is difficult to fix the limit of his power. His 
concentrated energies change the face of the world, and 
bring into subjection the most powerful agents in nature. 
W-ar, it has been remarked, seems to be his natural ele- 
ment. Whether this be true or false, war has called forth 
his first, his highest, and most destructive energies. 

The early history of our race contains little else than 
an account of battles lost and won, of cities overthrown, 
and of empires ravished by fire and sword. Countries fa- 
vored by nature with the most prolific soil and genial cli- 
mate, teeming with population and wealth, have been 
converted into fearful wastes by this desolating scourge. 

These grand tragedies were first enacted in the East. 
On the plains of the Euphrates and the Tigris, on the 
hills of Greece, and the fields of Italy, and other countries 
subjugated by the Roman power, have been displayed 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 185 

wonderful feats of liuman energy and depravity. And if 
the advance of civilization has, in some degree, mitigated 
the horrors of this scourge, it has not eradicated the pro- 
pensity for war. It has restrained its cruelties, and les- 
sened the causes which lead to it ; but the passion remains. 
In proof of this, I need only refer to the history of modern 
Europe, or to those fields of blood where, within the last 
half century, many millions of human beings have been 
sacrificed. There are evidences of the passion for war in 
countries the most pacific. The military hero has lost but 
little of the blazonry of his character. In modern times, 
he is not, in form, worshipped as a God, living or dead, as 
was anciently done ; but whether his victories were the 
results of accident or attributable to others, he is placed in 
the front rank of patriots and public benefactors. At his 
shriiie incense is poured out without measure, and crowds 
follow his footsteps. 

Who can portray the desolations of war? Pestilence, 
famine, and death are in its train. Hearts broken with 
anguish, and the tears of widows and orphans, are its 
accompaniments ; and these constitute the pyramid of mili- 
tary renown. What a basis for human glory ! 

If military services, through all time, had been rewarded 
only with the same degree of renown as other public ser- 
vices equally important, the world would have had fewer 
trophies of blood, and the scepter of despotism fewer 
subjects. 

Xext to the passion for war, religion has developed the 

highest energies of man. I do not speak of that religion 

which is from above, and which is gentle, and kind, and 

easy to be entreated, and full of grace and truth ; but of 

that which inflames the passions, and urges on its votaries 

to deeds of violence and cruelty. 

This passion, if not connected with war in its origin, 
16 



186 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

often leads to it in its most dreadful forms. The standard 
bearers of fanaticism are indifferent as to consequences. 
They approach dangers and deaths with a firm and steady 
tread, and would scorn to turn aside from the deadliest 
shafts of their enemies. If they fall, they fall to rise to 
a blissful eternity. It was this that gave victory to the 
arms of the prophet of Mecca, and established Moham- 
medanism over so large a portion of the world. The same 
spirit originated and sustained the wars of the crusaders ; 
and a similar influence was overwhelming in England after 
the death of the first Charles, and during the protectorate. 

These were terrible developments of the concentrated 
energies of society. The spirit of war, mingling with the 
spirit of fanaticism, steeled the heart, nerved the arm, and 
gave force to the blow of death. Blood and carnage flushed 
the cheek with hope, and filled the heart with triumph. 
Such combinations, impelled by such influences, must gen 
erally be irresistible, whether we look to them as a whole, 
or examine the elements of which they are composed. 

The follower of Mohammed was low and vulgar in his 
actions, and sensual in his aspirations. The crusader was 
more lofty in his bearing and spiritual in his hopes. Of 
the puritan I can not speak but with respect. His history is 
nearer our own time, and the citizens of a most distinguished 
part of our country, boast of their parentage from him. 
He was fanatical in his religious feelings, and misguided 
in many of his wonderful efforts. But his zeal was as fiery 
and his spirit as unquenchable, as were those of the crusa- 
der or the votary of Mohammed. Each considered himself 
the favored object of the Deity, and especially called to ex- 
ecute his purposes upon earth. The spirit of fanaticism 
has shown itself, if possible, in a still more objectionable 
form. Under the sanction of law, and with the professed 
view of promoting the true religion, it has invaded the 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 187 

private sanctuaries of life and attempted, by force, to control 
tlie rights of conscience. Its cruelties were the more shock- 
ing, hy the ingenuity with which they were contrived, and 
the relentlessness with which they were exercised. But 
the age of persecution has passed, and if the same spirit 
now manifests itself, it is rebuked by public opinion and 
the restraints of law. The energies of society have been 
displayed in the dissemination of the Gospel : not by legal 
enactment or the force of arms, but through tlie instrumen- 
tality of the word of truth and the missionaries of the cross. 
The reformation in the beginning of the sixteenth century 
gave a new current to the religious feelings of a considera- 
ble part of Europe, and constituted one of the most impor- 
tant epochs in history. Time will not permit either to 
trace this great movement or to notice others, which subse- 
quently took place, in the same cause. 

Voluntary associations and voluntary contributions have 
distinguished the present age, in this noble enterprise ; an 
enterprise worthy of the deepest consideration, and of the 
highest efforts of beings who are to inhabit eternity. On 
the success of this cause rests the destiny of our race. • It 
will succeed. Its missionaries are borne onward with a 
spirit which no difficulties can subdue. Neither life nor 
death, nor principalities nor powers, can shake their con- 
stancy or defeat their aim. They are surrounded and sus- 
tained by a special Providence, for whose power nothing is 
too vast or too minute. Yes, this cause will succeed. It 
will prevail over all other causes, until wars and conten- 
tions shall cease, and the sources of corruption shall be 
extinguished. 

In the physical world, the energies of society have been 
exerted, within a few years past, with signal success. By 
the application of the power of steam, and improvements in 
mechanism, a wonderful impetus has been given to industry 



188 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

in all its branclies. So rapid has been this advance 
that when we turn our eye backward we view with utter 
amazement the changes which have taken place ; they 
seem to partake more of the floating visions of the night, 
than the sober realities of life. 

By machinery alone is performed labor, in manufactures 
and other departments of industry, nearly equal to what 
would be the manual labor of one-third of the i)opulation 
of the globe. And this astonishing operation is still on the 
increase, and is principally limited to Europe and North 
America. Should the same degree of civilization, skill and 
enterprise, extend to other parts of the world, the advance 
and energies of society will defy the power of calculation. 
Commerce has expanded, as manufactures have increased. 
Every breeze that ripples the water fills the sails of vessels 
richly freighted, on ocean, sea and lake. But even the 
winds, swift as they are, seem too tardy for the great enter- 
prises of the present day. Our inland seas and rivers are 
not only covered with ships of fire, but they ride upon the 
wide Atlantic, in proud defiance of its winds and waves. 
Cars of commerce too, in fiery trains, traverse our hills and 
valleys, filled with the products of our soil and the fabrics 
of our artisans. And canals, that pass under our moun- 
tains and over our plains, are opened or beiug opened, 
which connect every part of our extensive country with the 
great arteries of commerce. And this same spirit of improve- 
ment pervades many parts of Europe. If the march on- 
■»vard, there, is less rapid than our own, it is still onward. 

But the astonishing displays of the energies of society 
are not limited to the vast objects specified. They are seen 
and felt in the cause of education, and in the general pro- 
gress of intelligence. The schoolmaster — not the miserable 
pedagogue of former years, but the man of science, of ample 
qualification to teach — has made his appearance. He is 



THE FORMATION OP SOCIETY. 189 

cheered by the legislation of sovereign States, and encour- 
aged by a hearty welcome into the bosom of society. 

The press, that mighty lever for good or evil, throws off 
its sheets with a force accelerated by fire. It would seem, 
indeed that the human intellect has received a new impulse 
and that its powers of production have been wonderfully 
enlarged. The literature of the age is spread over the 
land. We see it in its periodical dress, in the out-posts of 
society, in the cottages of the poor, and the dwellings of the 
rich. The gravest subjects of theology, of law, of politics, 
of science, are discussed in language so lucid that they are 
read and understood by all. 

It is said this is not an age of deep thought, of profound 
investigation, of polished composition ; that no standard 
work has been produced, which will distinguish the age or 
render its author illustrious ; that the productions of the 
press are too numerous for great accuracy and beauty of 
style, or great depth of comprehension. It may be that 
the style of the present day is less polished and vigorous 
than that of the past age ; but our loss in polished periods 
is more than compensated by practical thought and sim- 
plicity of expression. 

The literature of the present day is eminently popular 
in its language, and in the adaptation of its subjects to the 
general comprehension. Our writers seem more anxious 
to act effectively on the public mind than to make a display 
of scholarship. At no former period of the world have the 
productions of the press embraced so wide a range of subjects, 
or presented in such attractive and practical forms the top- 
ics discussed. At no time have they exercised so great an 
influence on mankind. This diffusion of intellio-ence has 
awakened enquiries in the public mind that can not easily be 
satisfied. It may be the means of creating and embodying 



190 THE FOKMATION OF SOCIETY. 

a public sentiment which shall shake the thrones of 
despots, and correct the abuses of power. 

Works of the imagination in prose, of the present day, far 
excel those of the past age. Not to mention other writers 
of this class, Madame de Stael and Walter Scott have no 
equals in their predecessors. And if we have no poets equal 
to Shakespeare and Milton, we can boast of our Scotts, By- 
rons, Wordsworths, Southeys, Goethes, Moores, Campbells, 
Lamartines and others. 

A state of advanced civilization is unfavorable to poetry. 
Even Milton doubted whether " he had not been born an age 
too late.'' The illusions of poetry are better suited to the 
dark ages, when men reasoned less and yielded a ready cre- 
dulity to the reins of the imagination. 

Works or essays on government, on political economy, 
on currency, on commerce, on manufactures, and on all the 
great practical questions of society, which have been pub- 
lished within the last thirty years, with the exception per- 
haps of the works of Adam Smith and one or two others, 
evince greater ability and a more intimate knowledge of 
the subjects discussed, than all similar productions which 
preceded. It is well remarked that every girl who has 
read Mrs. Marcet's little dialogues on political economy, 
could teach Montague and Walpole many lessons on finance ; 
and that any intelligent man may now, by resolutely apply- 
ing himself for a few years to mathematics, learn more 
than the great Newton knew. 

As historical writers, the names of Hallam, Napier, Pres- 
cott. Mill, Gillies, Koscoe, and others, may be referred to as 
worthy of being classed among the historians of other times. 
If their works are limited in their scope, some of them 
evince distinguished abilities, and all of them are creditable. 
The present age is not without its philosophical productions. 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 191 

Without enumerating others, the works of Lajilace, translated 
and commented on by our own Bowditch, place both the 
writer and the translator as deep thinkers and profoundly 
learned, in the first rank of any age. We have also 
writers upon law, and upon medicine, who deservedly occupy 
a high rank among those who have preceded them. 

We are prone to reverence that which belongs to the 
past age. And this reverence is often increased in propor- 
tion to the time which intervenes. This feeling leads us 
to underrate the abilities of our own time when compared 
with the past ; and such has been the predominant feeling 
of all ages. We are acquainted with the distinguished 
men of our own time : their foibles are known, and their 
errors and defects are published and often exaggerated 
with as much zeal by their enemies, as are their high quali- 
ties eulogized by their friends. Both sides run into ex- 
tremes, and the public may be made to doubt as to their 
true characters, or give a divided judgment. But this is 
not the case with those whose renown belongs to antiquity. 
Their foibles and errors were buried in the grave, or have 
not been transmitted to posterity, while their achievements 
have been recorded in history. We are inclined to consider 
them as in a great degree exempt from the common infirm- 
ities of our nature, and as having possessed talents of a 
higher order than belong to the times in which we live. 
There is a posterity for the present age, and when it shall 
pronounce judgment on the men and things of this day, no 
period in history will equal it in displays of mental and 
physical energy on all the great subjects connected with 
human happiness. 

We may here pause a moment on the literary character 
and prospects of our own country. 

Not quite twenty years ago, it was contemptously ob- 
tjerved in a foreign periodical, conducted with as much talent 



192 THE FORMATION OP SOCIETY. 

as any other in Europe, and generally distinguislied for 
its fairness and liberality toward the institutions of this 
country ; " as for literature, the Americans have none — 
no native literature we mean. It is all imported. They 
had a Franklin, indeed ; and may afford to live half a cen- 
tury on his fame. There is, or w^as, a Mr. D wight, who 
wrote some poems ; and his baptismal name was Timothy. 
There is also a small account of Virginia by Mr. .Jefferson, 
and an Epic by Joel Barlow^ — and some pieces of pleasantry, 
by Mr. Irving. But why should the Americans write books, 
when a six week's passage brings them, in their own tongue, 
our sense, science and genius, in bales and hogsheads? 
Prairies, steam-boats and grist-mills, are their natural ob- 
jects for centuries to come." This is a short history though 
it covers some centuries. And it is characterized by that 
superciliousness and inflated consequence, which at that day, 
were often shown towards this country by Englishmen, 
who had some learning without much depth of understand- 
ing. 

I have cited this passage merely to remark that the tone 
of this periodical, which still sustains its former reputation, 
as wtU as others less friendly to this country, has been en- 
tirely changed within the last twenty years. The works 
of many of our writers are now republished in England, and 
are read wdth as much interest as their owai productions. 
Not only our writers are spoken of in high terms, but our 
orators, in the pulpit and in the Senate, are treated in the 
British periodical press with great respect. So far now 
from treating us contemptuously, they indulge a very na- 
tural pride to see their descendants so rapidly rising in the 
scale of civilization. These sentiments have been extorted 
from them in opposition to their deeply rooted prejudices, 
by the character for efficiency which this country has exhibi- 
ted. 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 193 

In the learned professions we have as able men, as learned 
and as eloquent, as any of whom England can boast. And 
when we take a philosophical view of the future, and con- 
template the causes which are now in operation, and which 
must create that future, it may be said, without presump- 
tion, that this country will, in perhaps less than a century, 
in the empire of mind, surpass that of Great Britain. 
This may be thought a bold and hazardous expression ; but 
let us examine it. 

Causes are followed by their natural effects, on mind as 
well as on matter. This postulate will not be denied ; and 
we have only to enquire what circumstances are most favor- 
able to the development of mind. Here we may safely 
consult the lights of antiquity. At what period and under 
what circumstances were the most illustrious men of 
antiquity produced? 

Our attention is immediately fixed on Greece, as more 
distinguished for her intellectual achievements than any 
other country. Within the century preceding the death 
of Alexander, more great men were produced in this classic 
land than can be found in any other. They shed a lustre 
upon their country which no lapse of time nor change of 
circumstances can obscure. And what were the circumstan- 
ces under which they were producnl? They were citizens 
of free States which cherished among themselves a jealous 
rivalry ; and within the bosom of each there was a continual 
struggle for the ascendency. In the midst of these exci- 
tations, the highest powers of the human mind were 
called into action. The citizens of each republic felt them- 
selves elevated by the achievements of their distinguished 
men. And while they were proud of the glory of every 
part of Greece, they cherished most that which belonged to 
their own State ; and this feeling was never extinguished 
by the destructive wars which occurred amon^ themselves. 
17 



194 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

Now of all existing governments, there are none so nearly 
assimilated to those of Greece as our own. The form of oar 
government, it is true, is entirely different, but it is free, and 
we have similar struggles for the ascendency, and similar 
excitements. If we have not the same jealousy among the 
States, we have in some degree the same rivalry. There 
is a local attachment felt by the people of each State for its 
distinguished citizens ; and a general pride in the character 
of the Union. These two elements combine as strongly in 
this country as they did in Greece : and if we shall avoid 
intestine war, which may God grant, may we not still look 
for those high intellectual developments which constituted 
the glory of Greece ? Nothing but the corruption or down- 
fall of our government can defeat this brilliant result. 
In England there is excitement, but there is a want of riv- 
alry between independent States, and that local attachment 
which arises out of it. The metropolitan power overshadows 
the empire and will admit of no local rivalries. Public at- 
tention is continually directed to the seat of political power, 
and although pride is felt in the axihievements of their dis- 
tinguished men, it is too general to produce a strong excite- 
ment. It is like the pride we feel in illustrious deeds 
which ennoble our nature. There is no special appropria- 
tion of the glory, no personal identity or elevation of our 
own character, by any connection which exists, either nat- 
ural or political, between ourselves and the actor. 

We can think of no distinguished man of Greece with- 
out associating with his noble deeds the place of his birth. 
When the names of Plato, of Demosthenes, and many others 
occur, we think of Athens. With the name of Leonidas we 
associate that of Sparta, and so of other distinguished Gre- 
cians. Who that thinks of Washington, Jefferson and 
Madison, does not at the same time think of the State in 
which they were born, and which they have rendered 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 195 

illustrious. And the same remark may be made of other 
distinguished names and States. But in England no such 
association exists. Who recollects the birth-place of Bacon, 
Locke, Newton or Pitt. This important element of men- 
tal development is wanting in England, and is possessed 
in this country. 

In France the feeling is still more general tlian it is in 
England. Bonaparte once said that Paris is France, and 
and the remark was true. In that metropolitan city there 
is a concentration of almost every thing which gives charac- 
ter to the country. There are but few distinguished men 
in any of the provinces. 

If these causes operate upon mind and are as certainly 
followed by their natural effects as when they act upon 
matter, and if the action of our own institutions afford 
causes more diversified and similar to those which produced 
the highest mental development in G-reece, why may we not 
look for the same issue ? We may expect it, should our gov- 
ernment be maintained in its purity and no counteracting 
principles exist, with as much certainty as any effect that 
results from a cause under the laws of nature. 

Since the commencement of the present century, more 
has been done by governments and individuals to diffuse 
the benefits of education among the great mass of the peo- 
ple, than had before been done in many centuries. In 
many countries besides our own, provision is made for the 
education of the poor by a tax on property ; and this princi- 
ple should be universal. It was adopted, I believe, first in 
New England ; and it has mainly contributed to give to 
that part of the Union, less favored by soil and climate than 
others, the most efficient and best instructed population on 
the globe. 

In Prussia the system of instruction, in some respects, 
may be more perfect than in New England ; and in some 



196 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

parts of that country, under the influence of this system, 
its citizens may understand certain branches of education 
better than the mass of the citizens of New England, but the 
people of no part of Prussia, or of any other government in 
Europe, can be compared, in useful knowledge, with the 
yeomanry of New England. There are few of the latter 
who can not read and write, and who do not understand the 
common rules of arithmetic ; and they can discuss and com- 
prehend the elementary principles of trade, of personal 
rights, of government, and especially of their own govern- 
ment. This amount of knowledge is greater than is pos- 
sessed by the laboring class of any other country. 

In other countries the diffusion of instruction is necessary 
to the well being of the people ; in this it is essential to the 
maintenance of the government. The grand experiment, 
whether man is capable of self-government, is still here in 
progress ; and whatever may be our sanguine belief and 
hopes on the subject, the enemies of our republican system 
abroad do not yet admit that our institutions will be perpe- 
tuated. They see, or think they see, the seeds of dissolution 
springing up, which must prove fatal to the experiment. 
And are there no grounds of apprehension to ourselves? 
What are the tendencies of the political action of our sys- 
tem ? Has not party spirit usurped the place of patriotism ? 
Are not the lower passions of the people addressed and ex- 
cited with a view to successful party action ? Is not the 
press made subservient to this object? And who has not 
observed the corrupting influence of money and oflSce? 
Has not the value of the Union been estimated? Formerly 
this subject was held a political axiom, clear of all doubt, 
and too sacred for discussion ; but of late years is it not 
treated as a question of expediency, and in our legislative 
halls, in our newspapers, in common conversation, has it not 
become a matter of debate ? Thirty years ago who doubted 



THE FORMATION OP SOCIETY. 197 

the permanency of our Union ; and who, at this day, is 
without distressing apprehensions on the subject ? These 
indications portend immeasurable calamity. They should 
"be deeply and solemnly considered, that the fatal conse- 
quences may be averted. 

All who have reflected upon the structure of our govern- 
ment and its tendencies, agree in this, that our institutions 
can not be sustained except by the exercise of a high degree 
of intelligence and virtue by the people. Where the sover- 
eign power resides in a monarch or in a few individuals, the 
government may be carried on successfuU}^, however ignor- 
ant the mass of the people may be ; and indeed the form of 
such government may be more certainly preserved where 
its subjects are ignorant, than where they are enlightened. 
How long would the people of this country submit to the 
despotism of any of the continental governments of Europe ? 

When I consider a citizen of this great republic, in refer- 
ence to the extent of his rights and privileges, the powers 
lie exercises, and the effects of those powers, I see a being 
of incomparably greater importance, in the scale of society, 
than a subject of a despotism. The latter may be better 
educated, and he may occupy a higher rank in society, but 
the destiny of the citizen is much more important than 
that of the subject. 

In the citizen dwells a portion of the sovereignty of his 
country ; and he is often called upon to act in this high ca- 
pacity. He has a voice in the formation of his own gov- 
ernment, and also in changing it. In the ordinary exercise 
of his suffrages he appoints, with the exception of the 
judicial department, the great functionaries of the federal 
and state governments ; and of the latter, many of the in- 
ferior officers. And in addition to this, he claims the right 
to instruct the public agents in the discharge of their high 
duties. On the most momentous questions his voice is 



198 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

heard and regarded. But more than all this, he may him- 
self become an organ of the government. There is no office 
in the vast range of executive, judical and legislative duties 
in the federal or State governments, to which he may not 
aspire. Powers so multifarious and important were never 
before exercised by the people of any country ; and all these 
aj^pertain to the humblest citizen. Need I ask whether 
intelligence and virtue are essential to the discharge of 
these duties ? 

Intelligence and virtue are tlie ground-work of our whole 
system. It is the basis on which the superstructure rests, 
and if this shall fail all must fail. As well might we 
expect a blacksmith to construct, with his sledge and anvil, 
the nicely balanced and curiously wrought machinery of a 
watch, of which he is ignorant, as for a people without in- 
telligence to maintain a free government. But virtue is 
not less essential to its maintenance than intelligence. 
These must be combined and they must be exercised with 
an untiring vigilance. If this be so, and no one will con- 
trovert it, it is of the last importance that the rising 
generation should be virtuous and enlightened. The 
establishment of our independence was a great achievement ; 
but the establishment and maintenance of our complex system 
of government, in its purity, is a much greater. In the 
one case high patriotism, dauntless courage, strong arms, 
and unyielding perseverance were required to roll back the 
tide of war. In the other a sleepless vigilance must be ex- 
ercised, to detect, expose and eradicate corruption, which 
interweaves itself into our government. 

When the crisis is at hand, and men's feelings become 
deeply enlisted, it is not difficult to rouse them to a sense 
of their danger and duty. This was the case in our revo- 
lutionary struggle ; a common danger was seen and felt, 
and this lead to a common effi3rt. But corruption is 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 199 

sinuous, soft, and stealthy in its approaches. It not unfre- 
quently assumes the garb of patriotism, and covets popular 
applause by professions of the utmost devotion to the 
people ; and how often is it hailed in this form by thou- 
sands of unsuspecting citizens. So subtle is this poison, 
that to detect it requires the exercise of no unpractised 
eye, and of no ordinary intelligence. 

In the war against corruption, there is no public enemy 
in the field ; the foe is shadowy in his appearance, and so 
changeable that you can not always grasp him. If rebuked 
at one point, he may withdraw for the moment to practice 
his wiles in some other form or at some other point of 
attack. He never slumbers nor sleeps ; and he can only 
be repulsed by a vigilance that never tires. 

It is the order of Providence to suspend the blessings 
of this life on conditions. The farmer can not expect a 
harvest unless he prepare his grounds and sow his seed ; 
the artisan can not hope for a reward without the exercise 
of his skill and labor; and this rule applies with as much 
force in politics as in physics, in morals as in mechanics. 
We must have intelligence to perceive and virtue to dis- 
charge the great and important duties of freemen — duties 
higher and deeper, and of more lasting consequences, than 
any that ever devolved upon any people. 

The nature and importance of these duties should be 
inculcated on the youth of the country. On them will 
soon devolve the responsibility of conducting the great ope- 
rations of the government, and prior to this, they mingle 
with their elders in controlling it. They constitute a most 
important element in the body politic. Full of vigor, they 
are seen and felt in every political contest ; and if ignorant 
of the duties in which they engage, being unsuspicious and 
inexperienced, they are always liable to be used as instru- 
ments of evil. They are most likely to be fascinated and 



200 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

controlled by the noisy and unprincipled political adventu- 
rer, who, having little business of his own, floats upon the 
surface of society, ready to seize upon anything and every- 
thing which may better his condition. In a state of excite- 
ment he becomes an individual of importance and of no 
little influence ; and his great eflfort is to produce and keep 
up such a state. His note of patriotism is the highest 
and the loudest, his zeal for the people the most conspicu- 
ous, and of all men his motives are the least selfish. All 
who are opposed to him are denounced as selfish and un- 
principled. In him, and those who cooperate with him, are 
personified virtue, disinterestedness, and love of country. 

The great orator of Rome declared, " The republic is 
assailed with far more force and contrivances than it is de- 
fended, because bold and profligate men are impelled by a 
nod, and move of their own accord against it. But I know 
not how it happens the good are more tardy. They neglect 
the beginning of things, and are roused only in the last 
necessity ; so that sometimes, by their delay and tardiness, 
while they wish to retain ease, even without dignity, they 
lose both. Those who are willing to be the defenders of 
the republic, if they are of the lighter sort, desert ; if 
they are of the more timid sort, they fly. Those alone 
remain and stand by the republic, whom no power, no 
threats, no malice can shake in their resolution." 

This was the language of truth when used by Cicero, as 
applicable to the Roman republic, and is it not equally the 
language of truth as applicable to our own republic ? Who 
that hears me did not see the fitness of this application as 
the words were pronounced? 

It was a just and profound observation of Machiavel, 
that the real powers of government are often contracted to 
a narrower point in republics than in monarchies. 

In politics, as in the other great operations of society, 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 201 

the elements of good and evil are closely connected. They 
are in conflict, and the victory over evil can only he achieved 
hy discipline of the head and lieart. 

Intelligence without virtue increases the amount of evil ; 
virtue without intelligence can oppose no effectual resist- 
ance to political corruption 

In a late statistical account of the progress of crime in 
France, it is stated that the violations of the law were 
most numerous in those departments where the people were 
hest educated. This shows that education, to he a national 
hlessing, must he accompanied hy moral culture. This, in 
a great degree, had been neglected in France, and the con- 
sequence is seen in the increase of crime. In this country 
moral principle is inculcated in our schools of instruction 
generally, from the highest to the lowest ; and I wish I 
could say the Bible (which is the foundation of moral prin- 
ciple) is studied in all our seminaries. 

The good sense of parents generally points out to them 
the propriety of having their children educated so as best 
to qualify them for that branch of business or profession 
to which they are destined ; so that when they enter upon 
its duties they may understand them and be prepared to 
discharge them. But are there no duties which a student 
will have to perform, except those which relate to his pro- 
fession or trade '? Does he owe no duties to his God and 
his country ? If he be left to learn them when he shall 
be called on to exercise them, why instruct him in the 
business or profession which he is to prosecute? Why 
may he not learn this when he engages in it? If the 
reply be that this knowledge is indispensable to his inter- 
est, I would inquire whether a knowledge of his political 
rights and duties is not equally indispensable to a proper 
discharge of them? And is not the interest of the public, 
superadded to his own, in this case, to outweigh a mere 



202 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

personal interest ? Can there be any just comparison of 
importance in the two cases ? And has not the attention 
of parents and teachers been chiefly, if not exclusively, 
directed to the lesser interest, to the neglect of the greater? 

It is not expected that the science of government at 
large should be taught in our common schools. This would 
be found impracticable; but those elementary principles 
which are easily comprehended and easily communicated, 
should be taught. This w^ould embrace an outline of our 
political system, the origin of the State and federal gov- 
ernments, and the powers of each as established by common 
construction or judicial decision ; the division of powers 
into three great departments — the executive, the judicial, 
and the legislative ; and the appropriate duties of each ; 
how the checks and balances of the government operate, 
and afford the highest security to the rights of the citizen ; 
the nature of the constitution as the fundamental law, and 
as the test of legislative and executive acts, should be 
fully explained. 

The responsibility under which every public functionary 
acts should be shown, and how he may be called to account ; 
and also, that he holds a trust which he is bound faithfully 
to discharge in conformity to the laws, and with a single 
eye to the public good ; and that every prostitution of this 
trust is an abandonment of principle, and w^eakens the 
moral force of the government. The qualifications required 
for an enlightened discharge of public duties in the various 
offices established, should be clearly stated ; and, above all, 
the political rights and duties of every citizen should be 
inculcated, as constituting the foundation of our political 
system ; that it is only by a vigorous and untiring discharge 
of these duties the government can be maintained and 
preserved in its original purity. 

Ample details on these points and others connected with 



THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 203 

them, can be found in books already published ; and the 
subject could be enforced and variously illustrated by a 
reference to other governments. 

If these great principles were duly impressed upon the 
mind of every youth, as a part of his education, I hazard 
nothing in saying that they would never be forgotten, and 
seldom would they fail to influence his future conduct. 

Early impressions are the most easily made, and they 
are remembered the longest. Who has forgotten the inci- 
dents of his boyhood ? The events which transpired at 
school are cherished with a fondness of recollection which 
is as remarkable as it is universal. Even under the in- 
firmities of age, when the traces of memory become faint 
and confused of more recent transactions, these remain in 
all their freshness and vigor. 

Early impressions on important matters, when deeply 
fixed in the mind, become the axioms of life. They, in 
some degree, restrain the exuberance of youth, exercise an 
influence in riper years, and in the decline of life they 
grow stronger, as other causes cease to influence. 

Youth, then, is the period most favorable for the inculca- 
tion of the elementary principles of our government ; and 
next to moral principles, with which they are closely con- 
nected, they are the most important. They should be 
taught in our common schools ; and if this shall be done, 
long before the youth will be entitled to exercise the rights 
of suffrage, he will often discuss the principles he has 
learned, and apply them to the duties of practical life. 
He will be prepared to judge for himself, and instead of 
following in the footsteps of others, he will be able to in- 
struct and influence those whose political knowledge is 
more limited than his own. 

The inculcation pf these principles is recommended by 
considerations of the highest moment. Nothing less than 



204 THE FORMATION OF SOCIETY. 

the preservation of our political institutions is involved. 
The study recommended will be found as well calculated 
to fix the attention and enlarge the mind of the student 
as any other ; and as the knowledge acquired will find con- 
stant exercise in the political action of the country ; it will 
become matured by experience. 

We have seen what deep calamities have fallen upon the 
human race by a misdirection of the concentrated energies 
of society. The passion for war, the wild spirit of fanati- 
cism, unchastened ambition, demagogueism, corruption, are 
all to be encountered in the political field ; and are these 
enemies to be met and overthrown by men alike ignorant 
of the principles they sustain and oppose? This is impos- 
sible. A victory over these adversaries can only be achieved 
by virtue and intelligence. 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN 
KNOWLEDGE. 

BY ROSWELL PAHX. A- M. 



One of the most promising auguries for the future pros- 
perity and harmony of our beloved country, is the estab- 
lishment of institutions for the advancement of education, 
and the diffusion of useful knowledge ; among which the 
Western Literary Institute and College of Professional 
Teachers holds no inferior place. That its organization, 
together with its beneficial influence, may extend through- 
out the length and breadth of our Union, is the sincere 
wish and hope of the writer, who has been honored with an- 
invitation to address the present meeting. The subject 
selected by him for this occasion has long been a favorite 
one, and has engaged his most careful attention. Should 
it meet with a favorable reception from this intelligent 
assembly, the labor bestowed upon it will have been richly 
rewarded; especially if the result shall be deemed subservi- 
ent to the cause of sound learning and thorough education. 

The Classification of Human Knowledge has been studied 
by various distinguished scholars, from the time of Lord 
Bacon down to the present day. Many systems have been 
proposed, among which that of Lord Bacon, modified by 
D'Alembert and President Jefierson, is still the most prom- 
inent; though none of them has yet been generally 

(205) 



206 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

adopted ; nor do we think the importance of the subject has 
been fullj realized,- even among learned men. Lord 
Bacon classified the departments of knowledge according to 
the mental powers on which they chiefly depend. To 
reason be assigned the wide range of Philosophy ; to memory 
the broad field of History, both natural and civil ; and to 
imagination be entrusted the gay circle of the Arts. 

The system of Ampere is, in the writer's opinion, far 
preferable, though he conceives it to be liable to some 
objections ; but though published in France six years ago, 
it is as yet only slightly circulated and very imperfectly 
known. The fate of these labors might seem to imply that 
the subject is not of practical importance, and to justify 
D'Alembert's assertion, that a satisfactory classification of 
human knowledge is impossible. Such perhaps would have 
been the impression of the writer, had not the subject pre- 
sented itself to him in a peculiar light, several years since ; 
though leisure and opportunity have been but recently 
afforded him for pursuing it. He has deemed it possible 
to prepare a classification of all human knowledge, in a 
form both rational and useful ; to exhibit an outline of 
which, and to show its practical importance, is the object 
of the present address. 

It is hoped that this object is not irrelevant to that of 
the present meeting, for it is believed to have an important 
bearing on the engrossing theme of education. To know 
how much there is to be known, is of itself a stimulus to 
the inquiring mind ; and to perceive the relations of the 
different branches of knowledge, is no small step toward 
making their acquisition easy and pleasant. It is not pro- 
posed that these relations should be the first objects of 
study, nor at any time the most prominent ; but it is main- 
tained that in the progress of education they should at 
least be oa-asionally brought into view, and correctly 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 207 

understood. It is also maintained that although but few 
of the branches of knowledge can be thoroughly studied in 
our schools or colleges, yet that some general acquaintance 
with them all, including their history, relations and uses, 
and their leading facts and principles, is essential to a 
complete education. 

To illustrate these views by a comparison borrowed from 
Geography, we can not become thoroughly acquainted with 
every country in the world, so as to know every town and 
village, even though our whole life should be devoted to 
the task. Neither would this acquaintance be necessary, 
except in those parts with which we have particular rela- 
tions. But it is important that we should know what 
countries there are in the world, and in what direction 
they lie from us or from each other ; as also by whom they 
are inhabited, and what are their principal cities, institu- 
tions and productions. Now the survey which we propose, 
is to Pantology, or all Human Knowledge collectively con- 
sidered, what such a study of the world is to Geography, 
or a full knowledge of the earth and its inhabitants ; and 
we think it of similar utility and importance. Some may 
survey the ground slightly, others examine it more thor- 
oughly; but we think it desirable that every youth on 
entering the career of life, should have some definite 
(though they may be general) ideas of every branch of hu- 
man knowledge. Whether this be possible or not, remains 
to be realized ; and it can only be done by bringing the 
subject before the public, and by preparing suitable works 
for giving the principle an impartial trial. But if it 
indeed be practicable, how much will it not contribute 
toward expanding the youthful mind, by giving correc- 
views of knowledge in general, and inspiring them with 
continued ardor in its pursuit ! 

The classification which we seek, should be to knowledge 



208 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

in general or Pantology, what the natural classification of 
plants is to botany ; and formed on the same principle of 
placing those objects which are mostly similar, or most 
closely related, next to each other in the system. But 
here the same difficulty occurs in both cases ; that a given 
object has strong and perhaps equal relations to two or 
more others. Which of them therefore, shall be placed 
next to it ? Or if we adopt the idea of a map, and place 
the several objects around the one to which they are rela- 
ted, still on proceeding farther we shall find relations 
which it is impossible to represent, either by a map or by 
a series. Hence all such systems must necessarily be im- 
perfect ; and we find perhaps as great discrepancies among 
botanists in the natural arrangement of plants, as can be 
found among Pantologists in the arrangement of the 
branches of knowledge. As this however does not disprove 
the utility of such a classification of plants, neither should it 
disparage the similar classification of which we are now 
speaking. We would farther remark how useful an exercise 
it may be to study these relations of knowledge, consider 
which are the strongest, and arrange them accordingly in 
one connected whole. A love of system and order is thereby 
cultivated, which can not fail to have a beneficial influence in 
various mental operations, and in the active pursuits of life. 

It is true that this analysis of knowledge presupposes 
the acquisition of materials on which to operate, and that 
it can not be pursued without understanding at least the 
leading objects, facts and principles of the branches which 
are to be compared ; but this we repeat, is one strong 
inducement to the acquisition of those facts and principles, 
provided they are presented in the proper connection. The 
belief is fully entertained therefore, that a work of mod- 
erate size, giving correct views of general knowledge accord- 
ing to this method, would be of great service to the cause 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 209 

of education ; though to give an adequate idea of it would far 
transcend the limits here assigned. The same system might 
be applied to the arrangement of Encyclopedias, of which 
such a work would be an outline ; the usual alphabetical 
order being then superseded by a full alphabetical index at 
the end. It would be alike useful in the arrangement of libra- 
ries and manuscripts, public or private ; as it would bring 
those books or papers which relate to the same subject into 
juxtaposition, and dispose of the whole in the best practical 
order. Or, if the books themselves are not thus arranged, 
their titles may be so in the catalogue, which to be complete, 
should have both a systematic list and an alphabetical index 
referring thereto. Finally, the same system serves equally 
for arranging our ideas, as a nucleus for new accretions, and 
a mnemonical aid in treasuring them up in the mind. 

With these preliminary remarks, we proceed to describe 
and illustrate the proposed Classification of Human Knowl- 
edge, or system of Pantology. How far it may be original, 
or how far borrowed from the labors of other men, this is 
not the place to examine. Should it prove to be of practi- 
cal utility, the writer^s highest object will be accomplished 
thereby ; but should it fail of this, it will soon be forgotten, 
whether borrowed or original. 

In this system all human knowledge is primarily divided 
into four great provinces, each embracing of course, a wide 
range of subjects. They have been named and placed as 
follows :— 

1. Psychonomy, or the Laws of Mind; including the 
Languages, Mental and Moral Sciences, Law and Govern- 
ment, and Keligion. 

2. MJmology, or the Study of Nations, that is of man in 
society ; including Geography, Voyages and Travels, His- 
tory and Chronology, Biography, and Poetry and Eomance, 
with similar miscellaneous literature. 

18 



210 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

3. Physiconomy, or the Laws of the Material World ; 
including Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, with Astrono- 
my and Chemistry, and also Natural History, and the 
Medical Sciences. 

4. Technology, or the Study of the Arts, limited as this 
term usually is to the Physical Arts, or those which operate 
with and on material objects ; including the Arts of Con- 
struction and Inter-communication, Agriculture, Manufac- 
tures and Commerce, the Arts of War, and the Fine Arts. 

Under some one of these four provinces it is believed 
that every topic of human thought may find an appropriate 
place ; though of course many topics have relations to two 
or more of the provinces at the same time. In such cases — 
and they must occur under every system — the natural 
course is to treat of each topic fully, under that province to 
which it most closely belongs, and more briefly under those 
to which it has minor relations, referring at the same time 
from each to the other, which may be called the principle 
of double reference. 

If we adopt Ampere's first division of Human Knowl- 
edge, into two great kingdoms. Cosmology relating to mat- 
ter, and Noology relating to mind, the first two of our pro- 
vinces will come under the latter, and the last two under 
the former kingdom. So closely however are mind and 
matter connected, in all human researches, that we regard 
this step in the division as of minor importance, though 
worthy of notice. Should it be objected that the names of 
our provinces are not absolutely precise, but admit of a 
greater or less extension, we must rely that the same holds 
true of most of the general terms of science, which are in 
a like degree arbitrary and exceptionable. But we add, 
that the names here chosen may be easily adapted, and 
without confusion, to the ground which they are intended 
to cover. 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 211 

The four provinces, Psychonomy, Ethnology, Physicon- 
omy, and Technology, we would next subdivide, each into 
four departments, making in all sixteen departments, in 
which we think all human knowledge may be comprehen- 
ded ; and this step in the division we regard as the whole 
system. Each of these departments embraces a group of 
several branches of knowledge which are closely connected 
or related to each other ; and thus by remembering the 
names and order of the sixteen departments, we have a 
key to the whole distribution of knowledge, as the alpha- 
betical order is a key to the finding of all the words in a 
dictionary. We should here observe that it was not pre- 
determined to have the same number of departments in 
each province ; but this appears to be their natural subdivi- 
sion, and it adds to the symmetry of the system, without 
doing violence to nature. Several of these departments 
have long been recognized, more or less definitely ; but 
there were still many fragments of knowledge, which, like 
the unformed stars in astronomy, had not yet found their 
definite place. To introduce these fragments in their 
proper order, and thus complete what Sir James Mackin- 
tosh has so happily termed '* An Exhaustive Analysis of 
Human Knowledge," was one important object of the pres- 
ent system. 

In arranging the provinces, departments, and branches 
of knowledge among themselves, four leading principles 
have been constantly sought to be kept in view as a guide 
to the natural method, viz : the Order of Time, the Order 
of Place, the Order of Bependance, and the Order of Re- 
semhlance. The difiiculty of adjusting these principles 
where they conflict with each other, and of deciding in such 
cases which of them ought to prevail, can only be appreci- 
ated by those who have attempted similar applications ; 
but this is a difiiculty which would arise equally under 



212 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

any other classification, being founded upon real anomalies 
and irregularities in the very subjects of knowledge. That 
classification which satisfies the greatest amount of impor- 
tant conditions, is the best, therefore, which the nature of 
the case admits ; and its imperfections can only be rem- 
edied by careful references to those connections or relations 
which the system does not bring explicitly into view. 

In giving names to the departments, those in common 
use have been applied as far as they were deemed prefer- 
able. As all of these were derived from Greek words or 
originals, it has been thought advisable, in preparing the 
additional names, to derive these also from Greek radicals ; 
having regard to their significancy, euphony, and symme- 
try or harmony in the system. It is hoped that they will 
all be recognized by the classic scholar, as legitimate and 
appropriate, and that they are not too numerous or cum- 
brous to become a part of our received vocabulary. A list 
of these sixteen departments, with the derivation of their 
names and definition of their objects, will now be given, as a 
first step toward making them familiar, and as preliminary 
to the reasons for their arrangement in the following order : 

1. Glossology, from fXcoGoa, a tongue or language, and 
Xoyo^, a word or discourse ; including the study of Grammar 
and all Languages. 

2. Psychology, from ipuxrj, the soul ; including the Eheto- 
ric. Logic, Mental Philosophy, Moral Philosophy and 
Education. 

3. Nomology, from vofioQ, law ; including the studies of 
Law and Government, and Political Economy. 

4. Theology, from deoQ, God ; including the study of all 
Religions, from the lowest Paganism to the purest Chris- 
tianity. 

These four departments we would comprehend in the first 
province, that is Psychonomy, or the Laws of Mind. 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDQE. 213 

5. Geography, from ffj, the earth, and ypafTj, a descrip- 
tion ; including General and Civil Geography, with Sta- 
tistics and Voyages and Travels. 

6. Chronography, from -^povoQ, time ; including Civil His- 
tory, Chronology, and Archieology, or the study of Anti- 
quities. 

7. Biography, from /9^oc, life ; including Biography proper, 
and Genealogy and Heraldry, so far as they merit atten- 
tion. 

8. Callography, from xaXXo^, beautiful ; including Poetry, 
Komance, and similar ornamental and miscellaneous lite- 
rature. 

These four departments we include in the second pro- 
vince. Ethnology, or the study of Nations, that is of man 
in social life. 

9. Mathematics, from [xavdoyo), I learn ; including Arith- 
metic, Algebra, Geometry in all its branches, and the 
Fluxional Calculus. 

10. Acrophysics, from (foac::, nature, and axpo^, high ; 
including Natural Philosophy in all its branches, with 
Astronomy and Chemistry. 

11. Idiophysics, from cpocFi^, nature, and idco^, special or 
peculiar ; including all the branches of Natural History. 

12. Androphysies, from avr^p, man ; including the Medical 
Sciences, from Anatomy to Surgery. 

These four departments we could place in the third pro- 
vince, Physiconomy, or the Laws of the Material World. 

13. Architechnks, from ap-z^o^, chief, and Te-)(yrj, an art; 
including Hylurgy, or the study of the materials used in 
the Arts, together with Architecture, Civil Engineering, 
Ship Building, and Navigation. 

14. Ohrestonistics, from ^pr^aro^, useful; including the 
most useful arts. Agriculture, Manufactures and Com- 
merce. 



214 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

15. Polemistics, from TzoXefj-oc:, war; including Land and 
Naval Tactics, Fortification, Strategy, and the subsidiary- 
arts of war 

16. Callotechmcs, from y.a/2o::, beautiful, and reyur^, an 
art ; including chiefly the fine arts, or Printing, Painting, 
Sculpture, Music, and personal exercises and amusements. 

The last four departments we have comprehended in the 
last of the four provinces. Technology, or the study of the 
Physical Arts ; and thus we think may be distributed the 
whole circle of human knowledge. 

We proceed to state some of the reasons, omitting many 
others which might be given, in favor of the arrangement 
here proposed. The acquisition of some one language, is 
necessarily the first of our mental attainments ; and hence, 
in the absence of opposing reasons, the department of 
Glossology, or study of Languages, is placed first in order. 
The study of Grammar naturally leads to those of Rheto- 
ric and Logic, Mental and Moral Philosophy, and these are 
closely connected with that of Education ; all of which are 
therefore placed in the next department, I^ychology, using 
the term in an extended sense. The mental sciences form 
a natural introduction to those of Law and Government, 
comprehended in the department of Nomology ; and from 
human laws we pass, by an easy climax, to the divine laws 
and the study of all religions, constituting the department 
of Theology, and crowning the first of the four great 
provinces of Human Knowledge. 

The descriptive, or exoteric study of mankind, naturally 
commences with Geograjphy, including Voyages and Trav- 
els, the greater part of which relates to man in society, 
and hence is assigned to the province of Ethnology. So 
much of Geography as relates to the external world, 
irrespective of mankind, should be treated of more fully in 
the third province, under Natural philosophy and Natural 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 215 

History. The study of Geography is a natural introduc- 
tion to CJironograpliyy or History and Antiquities, which 
are therefore placed next in order. The subject of Bio- 
grafliy^ though closely connected with History, is thought 
to be so extensive and important as to deserve a distinct 
place among the departments, as here assigned to it. And 
last in the ]3rovince of Ethnology, or the study of man in 
society, we would place Poetry, Romance, and similar mis- 
cellaneous or ornamental literature, constituting the depart- 
ment of Callography. It is admitted that these latter 
studies, and especially History, are auxiliary to those of 
the first province, particularly so to Law and Eeligion ; but 
this is not deemed a sufficient reason for interrupting both 
series, and intruding the latter among the branches of the 
former. 

Proceeding to the material world, the department of 
Mathematics is placed first in order, as being introductory 
to this entire kingdom of knowledge, and finding most of 
its applications among tlie physical sciences and arts. 
Closely connected with this follows the department of 
Acrophysics, including Natural Philosophy with Astronomy 
and Chemistry, and thus comprehending all the dynamical 
laws of matter. To Chemistry naturally succeeds Idio- 
physics or Natural History, which examines individually 
the various objects in nature of which Acrophysics examined 
the elements and dynamic laws. The study of Natural 
History prepares the way for that of Androphysics, or the 
Medical Sciences, and thus completes the third province, 
Fhyslconomy, or the laws of the material world. 

The fourth province, Technology, applies these laws to 
the various Physical Arts ; which doubtless liold a higher 
place in the scale of knowledge at the present day, than at 
any preceding period. In commencing these arts, the 
study of Hylurgy or the materials for constructions and 



216 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

fabrications, with tlie elementary processes of working 
them, including metals and their preparation, or Metal- 
lurgy and Mining, seems to demand the first place ; and 
this draw in its train the arts of Construction and Inter- 
communication, or Architecture, Civil Engineering, Ship 
Building and Navigation, which we have comprehended 
in the department of Arcliiteclinics. The department of 
Chrestonistics, including Agriculture, Manufactures and 
Commerce, holds the next place; as even Agriculture 
depends much on the elementary mechanical processes, 
which we have already embraced in the branch of 
Hylurgy. The only remaining departments are Polemis- 
tics, or the arts of war, and CalUtechiics, or the fine arts. 
The former are more closely allied to the preceding 
mechanical arts ; and the latter will naturally conclude 
this province, as Callography did the second ; so that each 
kingdom of knowledge will conclude with the more amusing 
or ornamental portion. This, with a suitable Introduction, 
completes the scheme of Pantology, or universal science, 
which we have ventured to propose. 

It is true that many of our division lines, between the 
provinces, departments and branches, are arbitrary, and not 
precisely commensurate with the general terms used to 
designate them. The principal explanation to be given on 
tliis point, is, that we have endeavored to follow existing 
arrangements and divisions, as far as they could be made 
to harmonize in one general system ; and thus to render 
that system more feasible, and practicable, than if the lines 
of demarcation were farther changed. Were the whole 
ground to be occupied anew, many improvements might 
doubtless be made by a superior intelligence ; but it is 
hard to straigthen crooked paths, when well worn and 
generally trodden ; and all such attempts at improvement 
must be moderate, or they will fail entirely. In selecting 



THE CLASSIFICATON OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 217 

names for the various divisions, reference of course must 
be had to their primary objects ; since many minor topics 
are necessarily included, and no one name could be found 
which would allude directly to them all. 

It may be objected that some terms now in general use, 
and applied to large divisions of knowledge, are omitted in 
this classification. The answer is, that these terms are 
so vaguely or variously applied, as to be unsuitable for a 
more exact division. Thus the term PJiilosopliy was for- 
merly understood to comprehend the principles of all hu- 
man knowledge, or in the words of Cicero, *' the knowledge 
of things human and divine, and of the causes by which 
they are governed." Strictly speaking, it applies rather to 
any limited portion thereof, or when thus applied, it 
requires another qualifying term. Knowledge is often 
spoken of under the three heads of Literature, Science, 
and Art. But Literature, as the term is now used in 
Europe, signifies written or printed knowledge of every 
kind ; and if the attempt be made to restrict the term, it 
becomes indefinite. Equally indistinct is the division 
between Sciences and Arts. Science is the theory, and 
Art is the practice, or the application of principles to some 
practical purpose. These are in many cases so closely con- 
nected, that to separate them would be an unreasonable 
divorce. 

Again, the name Metaphysics, originated in a treatise 
by Aristotle, which coming after his writings on Physics, 
began with the words fi^za za (puGcxa, that is, after physics ; 
and which speculated vaguely on subjects beyond the reach 
of exact knowledge. Hence this term was coined by his 
pupils, or by the schoolmen, to signify '' the science of the 
ultimate causes of all being." So much of this science as 
really exists, will be distributed through our arrangement ; 
but as a distinct division of knowledge, we can recognize 
19 



218 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

Metaphysics only when used as synonymous with Mental 
Philosophy. The term Belles Lettres, is of French origin, 
literally signifying fine or beautiful writings. It includes 
Poetry and Oratory, hut how much more it would he diffi- 
cult to say, since, in the words of a standard writer, '' it is 
so exceedingly vague and indefinite, that miscellanies per- 
haps would he equally explicit." Alike vague, and still 
more general, is the term criticism, derived from the 
Greek xpiTcxo:;, a judge ; which, though sometimes limited 
to the rules of Ehetoric and Logic, properly applies to an 
examination of works on any and all subjects, and an expo- 
sition of their merits. 

It remains, if the effort be not tedious, to proceed one 
step farther in the proposed classification of knowledge, by 
proposing a sub-division of the departments into their 
appropriate branches ; which we shall endeavor to do as 
briefly as possible. 

Commencing with the department of Glossology/, we 
would subdivide it into the following branches. 1. Gen- 
eral Graynmar, explaining the structure, principles, and 
analogies of language in general. 2. Oriental Lan- 
guages; beginning with the Coptic and Hieroglyphics: 
thence proceeding to the Shemitic languages, including the 
Hebrew ; and thence to the Persian, Sanscrit, Chinese, and 
their allied tongues. 3. European Languages, commenc- 
ing with the Greek and Latin ; taking next the Italian, 
Spanish, Portuguese, and French languages, of Latin 
descent ; next the Gothic languages, from the English and 
German to the Swedish ; and lastly the Sclavonic lan- 
guages, the Polish, and Eussian and their allied tongues. 
4. Barbarous Languages; including those of the American 
Aborigines, the Africans, the North Eastern Asiatics, and 
the Oceanic Islanders, of which we omit here any farther 
details. The number of languages in the world is said to 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAX KNOWLEDGE. 219 

be about 3000 ; of wliicli about 80 are primary ; but they 
may all be reduced into a few great families, and all com- 
prehended in the latter three branches of Glossology. 

In the department of Psychology, the branches have 
already been given as follows : 1. Hhetoric, investigating 
the rules of writing and speaking, or Composition and 
Elocution. 2. Logic, investigating the processes of reason- 
ing, and deducing rules for their application. 3. Phreiiics, 
or Mental Philosophy, examining the mental powers and 
affections, hence including a part of Metaphysics, and also 
Phrenology so far as it may be received as well founded. 
4. Ethics, or Moral Philosophy, treating of our duties to 
ourselves, to our fellow men, and to our Maker, and of the 
reasons by which those duties are enforced. 5. JEducation, 
relating to the training and instruction of youth, from 
infancy to mature age. It is true that the study of the 
human mind embraces two great divisions, the one intel- 
lectual, the other moral ; but these are so closely connected, 
that although forming distinct branches, we think that 
they both belong to one and the same department of knowl- 
edge. It is also true that Education relates in part to our 
physical and corporeal nature, and not exclusively to the 
mind ; but this is not deemed a sufficient reason for divi- 
ding what is usually treated of as one single branch of 
knowledge. 

The department of Nomology, or Law and Government, 
we would subdivide as follows: 1. Political Philosophy, 
including all theories and general views of government, 
its different forms, and the means and modes of their 
administration. 2. International Law, defining the rights, 
and prescribing the duties of nations, in their intercourse 
with each other. It therefore includes Maritime and Com- 
mercial Law, so far as these are founded on the common 
consent and usage of nations. 3. Constitutional Law, or 



220 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

the particular study of the constitutions of nations, and 
especially of that of our own country. Under this head we 
would include all our Laws and Treaties made by the 
national government ; together with Martial Law, as being 
executed by the same high authority. 4. Municipal LaWj 
including the rules of civil conduct, founded partly on the 
Civil Law of the Romans y partly on Common Law or cus- 
tom, and partly enacted by express statutes. 5. Political 
JSconomi/f investigating the nature, sources, and proper 
management of national wealth. This last branch is here 
introduced as being chiefly subsidiary to legislation. The 
term Politics, properly signifying the science of govern- 
ment, has been, we think, too widely perverted from this 
signification to be eligible for the name of the present 
department ; and another has accordingly been applied. 

The department of Theology, we think best subdivided 
into the following branches : 1. Paganism, including all 
the fabulous systems of religion, most of them polytheistic, 
which have prevailed among pagan or heathen nations. 2. 
Mohammedanism, treating of the spurious religion estab- 
lished by Mohammed, the self-styled prophet of the 
Arabians ; and borrowed, it would appear, partly from Jew- 
ish and Christian sources. 3. Judaism, comprehending 
the religion of the Jews, pure as taught in the Mosaic 
scriptures, or modified by later commentaries and tradi- 
tions. 4. Christianity, or the religious system established 
by our Saviour and his divinely inspired apostles. This we 
regard as forming a sequel to the Mosaic system, and both 
together constitute the only religion which we can recog- 
nize as of divine origin. The great subject of Christianity 
may, we conceive, be divided into Ecclesiastical History, 
Biblical Divinity, and Sectarian Polity. Under Biblical 
Divinity, we would comprehend the immediate study of the 
Bible, of the Christian Fathers, as its earliest interpreters, 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 221 

and of the Evidences and Analogies by wliicli it is corrobo- 
rated and defended. Under Sectarian Polity we would 
include the immediate history, doctrines, and discipline of 
each particular sect which the Christian world presents to 
our notice. 

With these brief explanations of the first four depart- 
ments, we must here dismiss the province of Psychonomy, 
the first great quarter of the world of human knowledge. 

The department of Geography, after prefacing it with 
the requisite introduction, we would subdivide into 1. 
Asiatic Geography ; 2. European ; 3. African ; 4. North 
American y 5. South American ; and 6. Oceanic Geography; 
terms which here require no definition. Our reason for 
commencing with Asia, is that we may pursue the histori- 
cal order, or follow the same route geographically, that we 
are next to follow historically. This we regard as the best 
systematic order, though not the best for elementary 
instruction, in which we should always begin at home. "We 
would include the Ancient Geography of each country in 
connection with its modern ; as each elucidates the other, 
and we thus save repetition. Statistics we would also dis- 
tribute under the different countries to which it relates ; 
and the accounts of Voyages and Travels may also we 
think be best disposed of by the same arrangement. Of 
Physical Geography we would, in this department, treat 
briefly ; reserving the most part of what is usually compre- 
hended under the head, for Natural Philosophy and Nat- 
ural History. 

The department of Ohronography, or History and Antiqui- 
ties, we would subdivide into 1. Enclassic Qhronographyy 
embracing the History and Antiquities of ancient Greece 
and Kome ; and of those earlier nations which were known 
to the ancient Greeks and Komans. 2. Oriental Qhrono- 
graphy^ extending to the later Asiatic nations generally, 



222 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

and to tlie Mohammedan parts of Africa. 3. European 
Chronograjpliy, embracing modern European history and 
antiquities ; to which we would append those of the resid- 
ual parts of Africa. 4. American Ohronography, or the 
history and antiquities of our own continent. The sub- 
ject of Chronology might be regarded as forming a distinct 
branch ; but we prefer to give its general principles in the 
introduction to this department, and distribute the rest 
with History and Antiquities. It may be made a question 
whether Archaeology, or the study of Antiquities, should 
not form a distinct branch ; but as each of the arts in 
Technology has its own antiquities, we would, in this 
department, treat of such antiquities very briefly, and the 
civil antiquities which remain, such as manners, customs, 
and institutions, belong, we think, with the History of the 
different nations, distributed as above. 

The department of Biography^ we would in like manner 
subdivide into, 1. Enclassio Biography ^ or Ancient Bio- 
graphy as far as known to the ancient Greeks and Eomans ; 
their own Biography included: 2. Oriental Biography , 
including the remainder of Asiatic Biography, with that of 
the Mohammedan nations in Africa : 3. European 
Biography, relating to the Europeans since the times of 
Greece and Kome : and 4. American Biography, relating 
both to the aborigines, and to Americans of European 
descent. The reason for making distinct branches of 
Chronography, and of Biography, in so far as they relate 
to the ancient Greeks and Romans, and their acquaintan- 
ces, is in order to preserve the connection of the ancient 
classical literature ; to which we would afiix the epithet, 
enclassic, by way of distinction. The subjects of Genealogy 
and Heraldry, so far as they merit attention, we would 
consider as introductory to the department of Biography. 
In filling up this department, the philosophical method 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 223 

seems to be, to group together individuals of the same 
country, and under each country those of the same pur- 
suits, as having the closest relations with each other. 

The remaining department of this province, that is to 
say Qallography, we would in like manner subdivide into, 
1. JEndassic Qallography, or the Poetry, Eomance, and 
like miscellaneous literature of the Greeks and Eomans, 
and the nations known to them. 2. Oriental Callographyy 
or the ornamental literature of the Eastern and Mohamme- 
dan nations. 3. Ewropecvn Oallographj, or the Poetry, Eo- 
mance, and similar literature of the modern nations of 
Europe ; and 4. American Qallography^ or the like litera- 
ture of America, being chiefly the production of our own 
country. In this department, all that can be proposed in 
a general work, is to give an analysis of the best produc- 
tions, with extracts more or less copious, to illustrate their 
style and spirit. Such is the plan adopted in several 
French works, bearing the title of Cours de Litieraturey 
and which are nearly coextensive with this department. 

But we must here dismiss the province of Ethnology, 
and pass on to the third quarter of human knowledge, com- 
mencing the immediate study of the material world. 

The department of Mathematics, we would subdivide, 
nearly as is usually done, into the following branches. 1. 
Arithmetic, treating of calculation by means of the ordinary 
characters, representing given numbers. 2. Algebra, 
expressing the relations of quantities by means of letters 
and other symbols. 3. Geometry, treating of the measure- 
ment of space, and the properties of lines, surfaces, and 
solids. 4. Descriptive Geometry or Graphometry, inclu- 
ding the representation of geometrical figures on planes, 
and the subjects of Spherical Projections and Perspective. 
5. Analytic Geometry, or Ancylometry, including the appli- 
cations of Algebra to geometrical figures ; together with 



224 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

Trigonometry and Conic Sections. 6. Fluxions^ or Eheom- 
etrj, more commonly called tlie Differential and Integral 
Calculus, treating of the correlative increments of quanti- 
ties that depend on each other, and the relations of these 
increments to the quantities themselves. The study of 
Surveying belonging to the mixed rather than pure Mathe- 
matics, we would prefer to place among the Arts, in con- 
nection with Civil Enffineerino'. 

The department of Acrophysics, or Natural Philosophy 
in a wide sense, may he comprehended under the following 
branches. 1. Mechanics ^ treatin.o* of forces, acting upon 
matter, and the laws of equilibrium and motion, both in 
solids and fluids. 2. Optics, treating of the nature and 
properties of light, and the phenomena of vision. 3. 
Astronomy, investigating the motions, positions, and phe- 
nomena of the heavenly bodies, and their relations to the 
earth, the star which we inhabit. 4. Ceraunies; a name 
derived from the Greek xepaovot;, lightning, and which 
we would apply to Electricity, Galvanism, Magnetism, 
Electro-Magnetism, Calorics, and Meteorology, considered 
collectively as forming one great science, uniting the 
studies of heat and electricity, so closely connected in 
nature. 5. Chemistry, investigating the composition of 
all ponderable substances, with their mutual relations, 
properties, and uses; greatly depending on the laws of 
atomic attraction and repulsion, which connect it with Nat- 
ural Philosophy rather than Natural History. 

The department of Idiophysics, or Natural History, is gen- 
erally and naturally subdivided into, 1. Botany, treating of 
the vegetable world, the classification and localities of plants, 
their structure and mode of growth, their properties and uses. 
2. Zoology, treating of animals, their structure and func- 
tions, their classification and distribution, their instincts, 
habits, and uses to man. 3. Mineralogy^ treating of 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 225 

minerals as found in nature, their arrangement, composi- 
tion, properties, and uses. 4. Geology, treating of the 
structure of the earth, the masses which compose it, the 
changes which it has undergone, or to which it is still sub- 
ject, and the organic remains which it has entombed, as 
the record of its mutations. This department, it will be 
seen, treats of the objects which compose the material 
world, under the two great divisions of animate and inani- 
mate, which are so connected however, as to belong, we 
think, in the same department. The branches of Botany 
and Zoology are placed first, because a knowledge of them 
is prerequisite to the study of the latter branches, 
especially Geology, which combines all the others. 

The department of Aitdrophysics, or Medicine, may, we 
think, be best subdivided, without making the branches too 
numerous, into 1. 'Somatology, from the Greek cFojua, the 
body, including both human Anatomy and Physiology, or 
the study of the structure and functions of the human body 
in a healthy state. 2. Pharmacology, including Phar- 
macy and Materia Medica, or the preparation, classifica- 
tion, properties,. and uses of medicines. 3. Thereology, or 
the science and art of healing, embracing the classification, 
symptoms, and treatment of diseases, together with the 
means of preserving health. 4. Cliirurgery, or the me- 
chanical operations for saving life or preserving health, 
including Surgery proper, and all other kindred subjects. 
In the branch of Zoology, the human race would of course 
be referred to, as at the head of the animal creation ; but 
in the present department, the study of the human frame 
is resumed, in the utmost detail, as one of primary impor- 
tance, in the circle of human knowledge ; belonging, we 
think moreover, to the study of the laws of the material 
world. 

With this hasty sketch we dismiss the province of 



226 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

Pliysiconomy, and proceed to the last quadrant of the great 
circle of knowledge, the province of Technology. 

In the department of ArchitecJmics, embracing chiefly 
the arts of construction and communication, we would place 
the following branches: 1. Hylurgy, so named from the 
Greek oXtj, matter, and 07:Xa, work, including the study 
of the materials used in the arts, the modes of obtaining 
them, their strength and other properties, and the elemen- 
tary processes of working them ; embracing therefore, the 
subjects of Metallurgy and Mining. 2. Machinery, rela- 
ting to the application of the moving forces used in the 
arts, and the construction of machines. 3. ArcJiitedurey 
or the construction of edifices, with all their subordinate 
arrangements, 5. Viatecture, or Civil Engineering, rela- 
ting chiefly to the construction of roads and bridges, rail- 
roads and canals, and the improvement of rivers and 
harbors. 6. Navitedurey or Ship Building, including the 
construction of all other vessels, from the small boat to the 
steamboat and ship of war. 7. Navigation j including 
Seamanship, or the entire management of a vessel during 
a voyage. The arts of Surveying and Topography we 
would connect with Civil Engineering, as being particularly 
subservient to that important art. 

In the department of Chrestonistics, or the most useful 
arts, we would comprehend the remaining arts of peace, so 
far as they are necessary to our physical comfort, in the 
following order. 1. Agriculture, or the cultivation of the 
field, and the rearing of domestic animals. 2. Horticul- 
ture, or gardening, including particularly the cultivation 
of fruits, flowers, and ornamental plants. 3. Domieulture^ 
or housekeeping ; including the arts of housewifery and 
cookery. 4. Clotliiery, including cloth manufactures of 
every kind, and the preparation of all the various articles 
of clothing. 5. Furniture, or the manufacture of the 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 227 

various utensils and moveable articles required for 
housekeeping or personal convenience. 6. Commerce, or 
the exchange of commodities of every kind, with the prin- 
ciples and considerations by which such exchanges are reg- 
ulated. We thus connect in one series the arts of 
Agriculture, Manufactures and Commerce, so closely associ- 
ated in their relations, and in the public mind. 

The department of Polemistics, or the arts of w^ar, we 
would subdivide into the following branches: 1. Oplistics, 
from the Greek 07L}<a, arms ; relating to the arms, ammu- 
nition, equipage, and provisions required in carrying on a 
war; embracing therefore. Military Pyrotechny. 2. For- 
tificatio7if relating to forts and other works for strengthen- 
ing an army, or defending a place, and embracing their 
construction, preservation, armament, attack and defence. 
3. Gcotaetics, relating to the maneuvers of troops under 
arms, whether cavalry, artillery, or infantry ; with the use 
of their appropriate weapons. 4. Strategy, or Grand 
Tactics, relating to the management of armies during cam- 
paigns, and the means of gaining or avoiding battles. 
Navitactics, or the fighting of naval battles, and manage- 
ment of fleets and vessels of war. We realize the moral 
and religious objections to war in general, and admit that 
it may be wiser in many cases to suffer minor wrongs than 
to wage even a justifiable war for their redress ; but until 
human nature is differently constituted, or other efficient 
means provided for national defence, we think that this 
department must hold an important rank among the arts 
which are improving the general condition of our race. 

In the department of CaUitechnics, or Fine Arts, the 
last of which we are to speak, we would place the follow- 
ing remaining branches : 1. Printing, including also the 
art of Writing, and the mechanical processes of Engraving. 
2. Painting, including the art of Drawing, or in general, 



228 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

the representation of objects on surfaces, by means of lines, 
shades, or colors. 3. Sculpture, or the production of imita- 
tive forms, by carving, molding, or casting, with the 
proper materials. 4. Music, or the art of producing reg- 
ulated sounds, according to the principles of melody and 
harmony. 5. Argics, from the Greek apyca, leisure or 
festivity, comprehending those remaining arts which serve 
principally for recreation, as Gymnastics and Callisthenics, 
manly exercises, and games of skill, with embroidery, 
shell-work, and like amusements of the boudoir. The art of 
Printing, from its great utility, might doubtless have 
been placed in a preceding department ; but the present 
seemed its more appropriate place. The department of 
Callitechnics concludes the kingdom of Cosmology, as that 
of Callography concluded the kingdom of Neology; the 
ornamental parts in both cases being placed last in the 
series. 

We have thus pursued the classification of Pantology, so 
far as to divide all human knowledge into two great king- 
doms, or four provinces, or sixteen departments, or about 
seventy branches ; each of which admits of minor divisions, 
as far as we may choose to carry the process along the 
unlimited scale. It admits too, of every degree of exten- 
sion, from the present skeleton address to an entire volume, 
or an Encyclopedia, or the classification of the largest 
library. In such a classification, we would propose that 
works of a general character should precede the more 
detailed works relating to the same subjects. Thus, in a 
library, Encyclopedies, general periodicals and catalogues 
of books, would be placed first of all, as relating to the 
whole range of knowledge ; and general works on Lan- 
guage for instance, would precede those on particular 
languages, in the department of Glossology. Where the 
arrangement of the shelves or a regard to external 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 229 

appearance induces the arrangement of books according to 
size, those of each size may still be arranged in the order 
here proposed ; and it will probably happen that the smaller 
books on the upper shelves may be placed directly over the 
larger works belonging to the same department. While 
on this topic, we would offer the suggestion, that libraries 
intended to be general in their character, should contain one 
good work on every branch of knowledge ; and of course as 
many more as means and circumstances will permit. If 
some of these should never be fully perused, they would 
still be desirable as works of reference. 

So numerous are the books now written, that treatises 
on BibliograjjJiT/, furnishing lists of the best works in each 
branch of knowledge, and critical notices of their relative 
merits, are of real value to the student, and even to the 
popular reader. A brief list of this kind would form an 
appropriate Appendix to an introductory work on Pantol- 
ogy, and if well selected, could not fail to be of general 
utility. D'Israeli, in his Curiosities of Literature, esti- 
mates the whole number of books printed in the world 
prior to 1816, at 3,640,000; but Mr. Preston, in a recent 
report to Congress, estimates the number at only 600,000. 
From these and other data, we would estimate the total 
number of books printed, up to this date, at 1,000,000 
volumes in the German language ; 800,000 in the French ; 
600,000 in the English, including 25,000 American ; and 
600,000 in all other languages ; making a total of 
3,000,000 different volumes, or about 2,000,000 different 
works. Of books in our own language, after deducting 
those which are obsolete or worthless, there still remain 
probably, 50,000 volumes which are worthy of a perusal. 
Supposing, then, a person to read one hundred pages a day, 
or one hundred volumes a year, which is more than could 
be well retained and digested, it would require five hundred 



230 THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

years to read all tlie books worth reading, in our own lan- 
guage alone ! This result shows the importance of selec- 
tion in our reading, or we may misdirect our powers and 
misemploy our time, by dwelling on inferior works, and 
neglecting the nobler and more useful. 

It is however, not merely by reading, that practical 
knowledge is acquired, either of man or of nature. With- 
out close observation of mankind, their passions, propensi- 
ties, and motives of action, we may soon find ourselves 
deceived in the selection of friends, or the relations of 
business. In the physical sciences, we must follow closely 
in the footsteps of the philosopher or naturalist, revising 
his observation and repeating his experiments, if we would 
render his results available to ourselves, or attempt farther 
explorations on the confines of physical knowledge. It is 
then, by a judicious combination of reading and study, 
research and comparison, observation and experiment that 
the highest acquisitions are to be made, in the boundless 
range of human knowledge. So boundless indeed is the 
range, that he only, who confines himself to a very small 
portion of it, can know all that is to be known on any 
given subject. The wisest use, therefore, that can be made 
of a general excursion over the whole territory is to fix 
our location, become acquainted with its external relations, 
and then settle permanently, and cultivate diligently, if 
we would reap a full and certain harvest. 

But we must close these excursive remarks, which have 
already perhaps, transcended their proper limits. We are 
well aware that no classification of knowledge can be appre- 
ciated or its utility realized, till it is actually applied to 
the knowledge itself, which is to be classified. This appli- 
cation it is impossible to make, in a mere address like the 
present, and perhaps injustice has been done to the subject 
in introducing it on the present occasion. But the 



THE CLASSIFICATION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 231 

opportunity of announcing to tlie Western public a system 
of Pantology which has been the result of years of study 
and reflection, seemed so favorable, that it has been unhes- 
itatingly embraced; and if the patience of this highly 
respected audience has not been exhausted by the hearing, 
the writer will deem it a high compliment to his labors on 
this subject — which are freely submitted to the friends of 
Science, in the hope that they have not been wholly futile, 
though necessarily imperfect and incomplete. 



THE IMPORTANCE OF MORAL EDUCATION KEEPING 

PACE WITH THE PROGRESS OF THE 

MECHANIC ARTS. 

BY REY. BENJAMIN HUNTOON. 



We live in an age of remarkable features, and of un- 
common promises. Events are transpiring under our 
notice wliicli will leave a broad and deep impression upon 
the tablets of future history. Their intrinsic importance^ 
their effects upon coming generations, their consequences 
upon the happiness of man thi'oughout all his scattered 
habitations, Time, the great regulator of human affairs, 
alone can disclose. A new drama of splendid acts, and 
shifting gorgeous scenes, is exciting a deep interest, and 
attracting universal admiration, on the political theater of 
Europe. Scepters are changing hands, and crowns are 
exchanging heads, in all the quiet majesty and silent mag- 
nificence of this intellectual era of the world. There is 
something more sublime, of better moral grandeur, in these 
powerful spectacles of modern revolution, in the triumphs 
of law, in the majestic sway of public opinion, than in the 
proudest feats of arms and most sanguinary exploits of 
ancient heroes. There is read in them a lesson of gratu- 
lation and hope — of strong hope for futurity. They speak 
volumes of encouragement. They are monuments to the 
advancement of freedom and civilization. They are the 
(232) 



IMPORTANCE OF MORAL EDUCATION. 233 

harbingers of brighter scenes and times to come. We gaze 
upon them with emotions of exultation and astonishment. 
They are testimonies to progress already made, to victories 
already achieved over the retiring hosts of ignorance and 
despotism. In them we may, by the eye of faith, discover 
the embryo seeds and elements of the better inheritance 
of the world. But we look not upon the brightening aspect 
of older governments and foreign nations, to witness the 
most cheering manifestations and most hopeful indications 
of our age. These are to be sought at home— in our free 
institutions, in our common language, in our extensive 
territory, in our public schools, and in all the peculiarities 
of our situation and privileges, which distinguish us so 
favorably among the nations of the earth. Any of these 
would furnish ample topics of remark and illustration. 
Upon most of them I may not indulge myself even by a 
single glance. Some of them have been already discussed, 
here and elsewhere, in a manner in whicli I could only fol- 
low in very unequal footsteps. I shall, therefore, as most 
becoming the occasion, and consonant to the objects of this 
respectable and praiseworthy institution, confine myself to 
a few observations upon some of the prominent features of 
our ao^e and country, which are closely connected with the 
cause of education, which will continue to have a strong 
influence, for good or for evil, upon the character, the pros- 
pects, and the attainments of the rising generation. This 
will furnish subjects for admonition and encouragement, 
for sober reflection and animating confidence. 

Education is a subject which never grows old. It is the 
cotemporary of every age and generation. It ofters its 
guiding light to every new adventurer upon the arena of 
life and action. Improvement is the great law of exist- 
ence, and the improvement of the world is secured by that 
order of Providence which sweeps successive generations 
•^0 



234 IMPOKTANCE OP MORAL EDUCATION 

away to the grave. As eacli generation passes off, some 
of its prejudices, errors, and sins are buried with it ; while 
its improvement remains, and is preserved in the great 
treasuries of human mind and hearts. 

Death is the great reformer ; it is continually removing 
those obstacles which prevent the world from advancing. 
There was a time when the wickedness of man was great, 
and God removed it by a sudden and universal flood ; and 
He is now doing the same thing ; not suddenly, but in the 
daily order of nature. All are carried away as with a 
flood ; and sure it is easier to direct the young mind than 
to reform the old. Since those evil habits which become so 
strong in fifty years, would become invincible in five hun- 
dred, it is well that one generation passeth away, and an- 
other cometh. Without this succession, there would be no 
improvement — no advance — no hope of the race of man. 
Without this, the world would be like a vast forest, with all 
its leaves fallen, and all its branches dry. The dying les- 
sons of the wise, and the deeply cherished instructions of 
the departed, are not lost to the living. The effect of their 
example, the eloquence of their virtues, survive them, and 
prove a rich inheritance to their posterity. This is one 
method of providential education, and one which is often 
overlooked, though of salutary influence ; for it commands 
attention, and imparts instruction, which even the thought- 
less can not forget. Were it not for this succession in the 
dwellers upon earth, there could be no such relations of 
life as now give life its charm. 

The relation of parent and child, a-nd many others, which 
now give room for the best discipline of the human heart, 
and the best displays of human virtue, could not exist 
without it. Also, the beautiful contrast between the young 
and hoary head would be unknown. The happy influence 
which ao-e exerts on childhood would be lost; and the 



KEEPING PACE WITH THE MECHx^NIC ARTS. 235 

power whicli spreads its controlling benificent autliority over 
the future, from the remembrance of the past, would cease 
its exertion. But by tlie appointments of Providence, ever 
watchful for our moral good, the memories and the warn- 
ings of experience become monitors of wisdom in the great 
school of Time. It is thus that education is immortal, and 
leaving the lifeless remains of the dead, continues its be- 
nignant empire among the living. It can therefore never 
become an exhausted topic. It has always some new truth 
to teach, or some new duty to enforce, some error to with- 
stand, or some excellence to recommend. But I must check 
my excursive wanderings in the great universal field — the 
education of the world. 

It is the office of education among ourselves that demands 
our especial regard. It is to our own dangers, to our own 
wants, that we should direct our immediate attention. 
There are peculiarities in the features of our times and of 
our country, that should receive the concentrated interest 
and the collected wisdom of all the friends of freedom and 
humanity, to understand and convert them to their legiti- 
mate uses — the benefit of the individual and the progress of 
society. In this great work, this national education, every 
man, every public teacher, every influential citizen, has a 
responsibility — a serious and solemn responsibility. He 
contributes by the mere expression of his thoughts, or by 
his silent acquiescence, to the upholding of present evils, 
or to the process by which they may be corrected, and ren- 
dered subservient to the public good. 

One feature of our times, closely and inseparably connec- 
ted with the present condition and prospects of our country, 
is an absorbing devotion to an earthly and material philos- 
ophy. The whole energy of American mind seems to be in- 
tensely occupied with physical mechanical agencies. During 
the last twenty years, there has been a new development 



236 IMPORTANCE OF MORAL EDUCATION 

in the active energies and inventive — I had almost said 
the creative — powers of man. The most astonishing 
results of mechanical ingenuity everywhere meet the eye. 
Go where we will, we are every day surprised with some 
new mechanical improvements, some new contrivances of 
inventive skill, which are to multiply the powers of human 
labor, change the face of the country, annihilate time and 
space, unite in social neighborhood distant regions, and 
make the elements toil in the service of humanity. These 
triumphs of physical science and mechanic arts over matter 
are giving new impulse and importance to agriculture, 
manufactures, and commerce, increasing the amount of 
all the products of human industry in an indefinable and 
incalculable ratio. Far be it from me to speak lightly of 
efforts to advance physical science and mechanic arts, and 
especially their application to the practical purposes of life. 
The notion that the invention and application of machinery 
to do the work of human sinev/s, are connected with the 
distress, or tend to the degradation of the laboring classes, 
is the result of a want of knowledge devoutly to be depre- 
cated. Could all the labor-saving machinery of the world 
be, by one stroke of a giant arm, annihilated, no tongue 
could tell the results, the tremendous results of misery 
that would instantly be realized. The hostility to ma- 
chinery, to be consistent, must be universal. Each class 
of workmen has the same right ; and if the agriculturalist 
be justified in destroying the mowing or threshing machine, 
the weaver has a right to destroy the power loom, the 
printer's pressman would be right in destroying the steam 
press, tlie waterman would be right in dismantling the 
steam vessel ; and so throughout the whole compass of so- 
ciety, we should be thrown back into a state of privation, 
helplessness, and barbarism. The invention of machinery 
is as the multiplication of human thought and power. 



KEEPING PACE WITH THE MECHANIC ARTS. 237 

It is one of the glorious prerogatives of reason that it 
controls blind force, and renders the most powerful agency 
of nature subservient to the comfort and use of man. It 
is not this practical skill, in the adaptation of the physical 
sciences to the arts of life, that is to be deprecated as dan- 
gerous to the best hopes of man. But a tendency to direct 
the attention almost exclusively to the operation of me- 
chanical laws, to seek chiefly an outward tangible prosper- 
ity, to regard the conquests which mind achieves over 
matter, as its best and noblest triumphs, while the moral 
and religious element of our nature, its undying energies 
and affections, are in comparison overlooked — a tendency 
nourished by the growth of wealth, and a state of society 
in a high degree artificial — may well be viewed with ap- 
prehension and alarm. This is a danger to which I 
apprehend we are peculiarly exposed. It is a lamentable 
fact that moral education has not kept pace with the culti- 
vation of the physical sciences. Much more has been 
achieved for man's outward convenience than for tlie devel- 
opment and strength of his moral affections and principles. 
The signal success which has followed the enterprises in 
the mechanic arts, and the ample rewards, both of fortune 
and fame, attendant upon that success, have had a powerful 
influence upon all classes of the community. It is felt in 
every department of society; it pervades all ranks and 
conditions. In the ceaseless struggle and absorbing thirst 
for wealth, which is thus generated by success, the mind, 
except as to the particular objects and interests under con- 
sideration, is left unemployed. Many of the powers of the 
human soul, many of its most grand and pure and noble 
faculties become altogether inert. The moral nature is 
suffered to lie waste where it most deserves, for its own 
sake and for the results it would produce, to be cultivated 
and cherished until it should exhibit that sublime excellence 



238 IMPORTANCE OP MORAL EDUCATION 

for ^Yllicll it was originally designed by its Creator. 
I am aware it may be contended that, by this very constant 
struggle and ceaseless competition, many of the intellectual 
faculties are aroused, stimulated, and quickened, which it 
is one end of education to accomplish. It contributes to 
acuteness of perception, shrewdness, prompt and piercing 
insight into the different bearings of events upon men's 
concerns and interests, that activity of mind that seems 
to pounce upon a conclusion at once, and seizes with avid- 
ity what intellect, not disciplined and sharpened in such a 
school, would be long and slow in appreciating. It brings 
the active forces of the soul into play with a vividness 
and energy of which those unaccustomed to the strife and 
collision of interest and emulation can have no concep- 
tion. And this with many is regarded as the great object 
of education — not merely in our common schools, but in 
our colleges and higher seminaries of learning. The value 
of every acquisition is estimated by the account to which 
it may be turned for the accumulation of wealth. Learn- 
ing is sought as an instrument of worldly gain. A public 
education is coveted as conferring upon its possessor the 
power of converting all the elements of nature and society 
to his own selfish ends, to gratify the desire of gain, or 
pamper the pride of opulence. The effect of this sordid 
spirit is to undervalue solid erudition, and lower the stan- 
dard of classical literature in our country. High scholar- 
ship is a prize of no sudden attainment, and when attained 
it slowly receives public favor, and still more slowly reaches 
the certainty of wealth. The honors of the world rarely 
cluster around it, and it cherishes with most enthusiasm 
^ those habits and feelings which the active, bustling pur- 
suits of life necessarily impair, if they do not wholly 
extinguish. Instances of extraordinary affluence by mere 
scholarship are more rare than by adroitness in the 



KEEPING PACE WITH THE MECHANIC ARTS. 239 

physical sciences. It is not then to be wondered at, that the 
prudence of some minds and the ambition of others should 
shrink from labors which demand days and nights of hard 
study, and hold out rewards which are distant, or pleasures 
which are, for the most part, purely intellectual. This 
haste to be suddenly rich, this pernicious idolatry of wealth, 
intoxicates the young, and, at an early period of life, before 
their minds are sufficiently strengthened by discipline and 
matured by experience, urges them into the various fields 
of wordly competition, and invites them to become not only 
actors but leaders in the most difficult and responsible 
trusts of life. The period of education is shortened, and 
that of action precipitated ; the time of preparation is les- 
sened, that that of labor may begin. Our daughters are 
taken from school before they have gained any adequate 
discipline of the intellect, or established a taste for profit- 
able reading. Our sons are taken from their books at an 
early age, and pressed into business, v.^hich allows them no 
time for further study, and they arrive at manhood, wealth, 
affluence, respectable connections, perhaps a leading place 
in society, with nothing more than a school boy's learning, 
and without the tastes and qualifications w^Iiich should 
adorn their station ; or if they pass through the course of 
education at our colleges, it is still such a course as brings 
them early into the professions which they regard as the 
mere stepping stones to wealth — the efficient levers of self- 
exaltation. 

Instead of devoting their education to the all-important 
purposes of promoting the moral elevation of society, and 
the intellectual improvement of their country — instead of 
reflecting back upon the community the light which its 
institutions have poured upon their heads — instead of iden- 
tifying themselves with their fellow-creatures, and wielding 
the influence which their position gives them, to extend the 



240 IMPORTANCE OF MOIIAL EDUCATION 

benefits of education, to rescue tlie less favored classes 
from the combined evils of ignorance and vice, and to en- 
courage among all a taste for tbe pleasures of knowledge, 
and a love and approbation of tlie true, tbe beautiful, and 
tbe good — tbey close tbeir books, enter tbe fields of com- 
petition, steel tbeir bearts in tbe panoply of selfisbness, 
bardiness and isolation of tbeir own interests, plunge into 
tbe bustle and active pursuits, and strive to be foremost in 
tbe race, and by tbe assistance of tbe wings of Minerva, 
bope to out-run all otbers in tbe career of w^ealtb and 
ambition, Tbere are bonorable exceptions to tbis wTetcbed 
idolatry to Mammon, among tbe graduates from our bigber 
seats of learning. 

But we may borrow an exclamation from tbe lips of tbe 
Saviour of tbe world, upon tbe ingratitude of tbose wbo bad 
received especial favor from bis miraculous powers: " were 
tbere not ten bealed, but wbere are tbe nine f' Tbe times 
in wbicb we live, tbe tendency of tbe age, and tbe wants of 
our country, call upon our scbools, colleges and seminaries 
of learning, to give us a generation of scbolars, to fill tbe 
bigb places of society, wbo are aware of tbeir responsibility, 
■wbo sball not be so entirely absorbed in tbeir own selfisb 
interests, as to allow tbem no leisure to devote a portion 
of tbeir care and tbougbt to tbe general good — not merel}^ 
content in furnisbing inventions of pbysical convenience, by 
wbicb wealtb is multiplied, trade facilitated, and cities 
adorned. In regard to tbese, neglect is little to be appre- 
hended, because tbey lie in tbe very patb of men, and are 
palpably instrumental in growtb of population, wealtb and 
luxury. But wbo sball look deeper into tbe great wants 
of man's moral nature, tbe mysteries of bis inner being, 
and provide for tbe growth, tbe gratification, and improve- 
ment of tbose faculties, wbicb transcend tbe limits of tbe 
material, and stretcb out to tbe " immense and infinite ?'' 



KEEPING PACE WITH THE MECHAXIC ARTS. 241 

Who shall regard the minds and characters of men, as of 
chief concern, and therefore strive anxiously, and vigorous- 
ly, to enlarge the means of education and virtue, watch 
over the seliools, encourage the institutions of philanthropy, 
and labor for whatever advances society by advancing the 
the greatest good of its individual members, viewed in 
their whole natures — intellectual, moral, and religious, as 
well as physical and temporal — in their relation to God and 
their fellow-creatures, to time and eternity. These great 
objects of education seem to me, to be dimly aprehended 
by the vast majority of parents and teachers. We boast 
of our free schools, we point to our *' brick edifices,^' as the 
pride and ornament of our city. And so they are. The 
surest marks of an elevated and enlightened people, are 
seen in those institutions, which are consecrated to the work 
of calling forth the intellect, the imagination, the conscience, 
the pure affections, the moral energy of the rich and poor, 
throughout the whole community ; in making provision, 
that the rising generation, the representatives to us of 
future generations, may be trained to know their rights, 
their duties, and their interests. How contemptible 
is the show of wealth, the splendid, gaudy trappings of 
luxury, in comparison with those moral nurseries, those 
republican institutions, those temples of freedom, whose 
sanctifying light shall circulate through all classes, and 
spread its rich life-cheering effulgence over all the condi- 
tions of social life. But the work is but commenced when 
the system is adopted and the buildings erected. The 
great object to be gained is to secure the aid, the ministra- 
tion of able and accomplished teachers. Until this step is 
taken, no important progress can be made ; without compe- 
tent, judicious instructors a school is but a name. Every 
" College of Teachers," whose object is to elevate the pro- 
fession of teaching, will be a fountain of living waters, 



242 IMPORTANCE OF MOIIAL EDUCATION 

sending forth streams to refresh present and future ages. 
One of the surest signs of the regeneration of society, will 
be the elevation of the art of teaching to tlie highest rank 
in the communitj. To teach, whether by word or action, is 
the highest function on earth. And when the people shall 
learn, that its greatest benefactors and most important 
members are men devoted to the liberal instruction of all 
its classes, to the work of raising to life its buried intellect, 
they will have opened to themselves the path of true glory. 
Onward, is the watch-word of the times ; and it should 
be applied to the " elevation of teaching,^' to the advan^ie- 
ment of education, as well as to other great national inter- 
ests. Onward the nation is going with astonishing rapidity, 
iu pulation and wealth, in civilization and refinement, 
and consequently in the means of promoting any object 
which shall seem desirable. It is unspeakably desirable 
that this wonderful external progress should be accompanied 
by a corresponding progress in moral education, enlightened 
well-principled religious sentiment, so that when we shall 
equal the older nations in wealth, and exceed them in 
numbers, we may not be mortified by inferiority of charac- 
ter, virtue and goodness. AYe must not accustom ourselves 
to think, that our glory is secured when our national 
treasm-y is overflowing, or our *' experiments" of multiply- 
ing gold are successful. We must be ambitious to obtain 
for ourselves, and for our country, some higher distinction 
than that of carnal, unsanctified, Carthagenian prosperity. 
What constitutes national glory ? What is the renown we 
should most covet for our now great and flourishing repub- 
lic? Not that of surpassing other nations in extent of 
territory, physical improvements, and overgrown wealth. 
Many communities have risen and perished, and left no 
memorial but traditionary fame of afifluence, or crumbling 
monuments of mechanical skill and gigantic physical power. 



KEEPING PACE WITH THE MECHANIC ARTS. 243 

The glory of our country is, that it contains a people 
eminent for moral and intellectual wealth ; that it may be the 
home of the free, the intelligent, the virtuous ; that here 
human nature may exhibit, not a few rare specimens of 
superior excellence, standing out from a mass of ignorance 
and depravity, but an entire nation, well educated in all 
that is essential to form and elevate the individual man, 
and rear him up a pillar in the great and harmonious fab- 
ric of society. This can be accomplished only by seeing to 
it, that the progress of mind and morals does not lag tardily 
behind the growth of outward prosperity. This it will do, 
as inevitably as effects correspond with causes, unless our 
youth are trained in supreme regard to the highest obi^^'^ts 
of man, and sedulously cultivate in themselves, the k — 
the unquenchable love of moral excellence. Let them be 
taught to take counsel of their moral natures, instead of 
their imaginations and their dreams of gold ; let them learn 
to listen to the spirit's voice within, which they can not fail 
sometimes to hear, hovvever overborne by the noise of the 
world and the tumult of earthly desires ; let them set their 
own mark high, and press steadily forward to reach it. 
They should be taught to understand that the true great- 
ness of a people, the true happiness of life, does not consist 
in external prosperity ; that it can never be secured with- 
out knowledge and virtue. Let those who have had the 
benefits of education especially feel that to them is commit- 
ted a most solemn charge in this respect. They are con- 
stituted by. Providence guardians of this portion of the public 
weal. They are made watchmen over the moral and intel- 
lectual interests of the rising generation. They are to be 
overseers of the instruction of the land, and in no small part 
its educators and guides. Let them know that they descend 
from their lofty position, when they forsake this honorable 
vocation, and go out from the temple of science, and the halls 



244 IMPORTANCE OF MORAL EDUCATION 

of instruction, to join tlie throng that is toiling for mere 
wealth or power. They are not wanted in the counting- 
room, or in the market-place. There are enough without 
them to do the active work, and carry on the commerce of 
the world, and fill the offices of State. But they are 
wanted in the seats of education. More teachers in all 
departments — more soher, enlightened, judicious educators 
of the people, alike in the humbler schools, and in higher 
seminaries of science, morals, and religion, are pressingly 
needed, and he does more service as a patriot, who puts his 
books in a knapsack, and walks away to some frontier 
settlement, and lays the foundation of a solid education in 
that rising village, than he who by adventure or speculation 
becomes the nabob of a city. A thousand men have the 
education and talent for the latter, for one that is fitted 
for the former, or has the character or virtue requisite to 
accomplish it. There is no ground to fear, lest the Ex- 
change and the Senate house be deserted ; but there is fear 
lest the House of God be forsaken and the institutions of 
religion cast away ; lest the generations that are rapidly 
filling up our extensive borders, should spread their tents 
on the hill-sides and in the wide valleys, without the Taber- 
nacle of the Lord among the tribes ; lest outward prosperity, 
worldly mindedness and earthliness should possess and 
deprave the goodly inheritance of our posterity. 

If the time ever arrive, when our chief energies as a 
people shall be directed to the outward and the perishing, 
to the means of promoting mere physical comfort ; if the 
sacred fire be permitted to go out on the altar ; if what God 
has given us as spirit, be regarded as a dead letter ; if in- 
stead of regarding religion as a precious reality, we are 
satisfied to treat it with a cold and ceremonious respect, as 
simply a venerable tradition ; if now, when the wilderness 
has been converted into a garden, and goodly edifices have 



KEEPING PACE WITH THE SIBCHANIC ARTS. 245 

arisen, and poverty has been exchanged for affluence, our 
hearts become elated, and in a spirit of pride and self- 
adulation, we begin to say within ourselves, our own power 
and might have gotten us this prosperity and this wealth, 
to do with it according to our heart's desire, thus leading 
the life of practical Atheists ; if this time, which, heaven 
in m-ercy forbid, shall ever arrive, our doom is fixed, our 
pleasant places shall become as frightful wastes, and a 
moral desolation, tenfold more hideous than nature's soli- 
tude, will spread over the land ; in vain the fields will 
bloom ; in vain the seasons smile ; in vain the earth pour 
plenty into our laps ; and our commerce whiten every sea ; 
a plague-spot will be on the soul; and every joy will be 
tainted ; and every hope will expire. We may for a sea- 
son enjoy an over-grown and bloated prosperity, but the 
fabric will soon totter on its sandy foundation, and we shall 
be buried beneath the ruins of our own greatness. Let 
every friend to his country, every patriot, every philanthro- 
pist, every christian, come to the rescue, and resolve to pre- 
vent the evil before it be too late. We put it to the 
conscience of every man, of every woman, and every child, 
if they will not do their part. It may seem little that a 
humble individual can do ; but let each one think that he 
will be criminal if he withhold that little. Let him know, 
that if he do it in simplicity and faith, it will be far more 
than he imagines. There is no infallible sign that the 
world is to be dispaired of, until individual men think that 
there is nothing for them to do for its purity and salvation. 



THECLASSICS. 

BY PROPESSOR T. M. POST 



The empire of proscription is gone by. She sits among 
the discrowned shadows of the past, with a sinking scepter, 
and on a crumbling throne. The present is an age of fear- 
less and burning inquiry. Time honored custom, hoary 
usage, consecrated precedent, all the idols of the past, are 
torn from their shrines, and thrown into the furnace. I 
rejoice that it is so — that systems of education, too, are 
subjected to the trial. I rejoice in the assurance that truth 
will triumphantly abide the test, while rottenness and cor- 
ruption will be purged off. But while we tear away the 
pimple from the sores of old opinion, and exult over the 
prostrate carcass of long worshiped error, it behooves us 
to look to it, that ours is a '' zeal according to knowledge." 
The tendency of all revolutions is to extremes. There is 
danger lest innovation in its wild sweep may besom the stars 
as well as the clouds from the the sky. It is quite as 
flattering to human vanity to destroy as to create ; much 
more so than it is to reform ; and we should recollect, infi- 
nitely easier too, and presenting far stronger inducements 
to an indolent but ambitious temper. It took but the brand 
of an obscure incendiary to reduce the temple of Ephesus to 
ashes ; it required but the mad freak of a drunken moment 
to convert towered Persepolis into a haunt for the owl and the 
hyena : but it cost the wealth of ages and of Asia to create 

(246) 



THE CLASSICS. 247 

them. It is well, then, while every thing claiming respect 
or authority is cast into the crucible and severely tested, to 
beware, lest from an undue self-complacency, or a pride of 
destruction, antiquity instead of " waking reverence," may 
become the mark for indiscriminate abuse and proscription. 
It is well for each generation while it exults in its own de- 
lightful self-worship, to reflect that it owes it to human 
nature and to itself to suppose that its fathers were not 
fools ; that the experience and verdict of the wise of past 
aaces are entitled to some consideration. 

In the progress of the revolution of our times, the study of 
the Greek and Latin classics has been arraigned before the 
tribune, and the cry has been " To the Guillotine ;" and 
as amid this cry voices have been mingled, to which we shall 
ever listen with respect, and charges have been urged, of 
a grave import and a plausible show, I have thought it 
might not be amiss, at this time, to inquire what defense, 
if any, the cause of classical learning has to plead in reply. 
It is with a view to this purpose that I presume upon your 
indulgence on this occasion, assured that the important re- 
lations of this subject to schemes of education in our own 
land, and throughout Christendom, will ensure me an indul- 
gent hearing. 

The Classics ought not to shun investigation — they do 
not ; the rank they hold in the scale of education, the ex- 
pense of time, money and labor they cost, the tremendous 
influence for good or for evil they are exerting upon the 
youthful mind of the civilized world, forbid it ; and if cost- 
ing what they do, and exerting the influence they exert, 
they have not strong claims to the rank they hold, they 
surely should be degraded. Let us then consider their 
claims as matter of practical and immediate moment. And 
here in the outset let me remark as fundamental to our in- 
quiry, that in estimating them we should take into the 



248 THE CLASSICS. 

computation not only the prominent peculiar advantages 
of classical study, hut also those collateral and iyicidental, 
and consider their strength of claim as based upon the tvholcy 
accumulated and combined. For it is possible, nay very 
probable, that in the whole circle of literature you may 
meet with studies, to which singly, and in part, are distrib- 
uted most of the advantages challenged for the classics, 
when it may be extremely difficult, and perhaps impossible 
to find one tliat proffers any thing like a combination of 
them. The question is not, can any other study be found 
that is equally with the classics oiinlKied singly, to give 
culture to the memory, or taste, or imagination, or reason, 
or to confer command of language, or habits of attention, 
or of analysis, or of induction, or to image forth the mind 
of the world in some of those periods that have been radi- 
ant points in its history — but, can any other array under 
its banner, all these advantages marshaled in one phalanx ? 
I insist upon this point because I believe much error in 
reasoning on this subject has arisen from overlooking it. 

To proceed then with our investigation — the expendiency 
of the study proposed to be considered, must appear, if at all, 
either in its manifest intrinsic tendency, to discipline and 
furnish the mind, or in the results of experience. Let us 
then first look at its natural influence upon the various 
powers of the mind. And first upon the memory : 

And here surely it needs no labored argument to prove 
to one at all acquainted with the subject, that learning the 
vocabulary and structure of a foreign and difficult language, 
is a constant and arduous exercise of the memory. There 
are two species of memory, both of which we should aim to 
cultivate, (as the occasions of common life require both), the 
arbitrary, and the philosophical ; the former based upon 
relations merely casual and temporary, as juxtaposition, in 
time or place ; the latter, of a higher and more important 



THE CLASSICS. 249 

order, upon those which are essential and immutable, as 
analogy, cause and effect, premise and conclusion, and the 
like. Now I am at a loss to know where, in human learn- 
ing, can be found a mental exercise more fitly adapted 
to strengtlien both these habits, and make the bands of 
association iron, than that involved either in fixing in the 
memory insolated words or forms by the arbitrary relations 
of time and place, or in chaining there those that are con- 
nected and derived by their relations to their cognates, 
derivatives or themes, or to some supposed analogy or cause, 
or efiect, or some peculiarity in history, politics, or litera- 
ture, etc. But this is the exercise constantly demanded in 
the study of the classics — ^demanded even in that part of 
it commonly deemed most barren of interest and immediate 
profit, the incipient stages. 

But what is its influence upon the higher faculties of the 
mind — -the analytical, the inductive, the discriminative? 
And first upon the analytical ? To this it is a perfect 
whetstone. Strict interpretation even of a legal instrument 
in our own language is well known to be one of the most 
sharpening exercises to which the human mind can be sub- 
jected. But of this nature is the discipline constantly 
involved in rigid and accurate translation. It is a contin- 
ual requisition of the most subtle and scrutinizing analysis. 
Does any obscurity or perplexity present itself? The sen- 
tence must be resolved into its original elements, the tan- 
gle must be evolved, the known must be separated from 
the unknown ; and as in algebra, the latter must be ascer- 
tained from its relations to the former. 

Again : Translation is a constant process of induction. 
The context, the usiis loquendi, the character, scope and 
style of the author, the spirit and circumstances of his age 
and country, their peculiarities, political, social and religi- 
ous, mental, moral and physical, — are all so many elements 



250 THE CLASSICS. 

wliicli must modify and sway translation, and from wHeli 
the student is required constantly to frame inductions. 
The habit of prompt, accurate and wide-seeing induction is 
one of the most useful and important accomplishments of 
the human mind, but to give this that constant and various 
culture furnished by this study, lies within the province of 
no other I am acquainted with. Mathematics may teach 
demonstration ; but to reason from moral evidence, such 
evidence as must control our opinions and conduct in most 
of the great practical questions of life, lies not within their 
gift. Nor am I aware of any other means of mental disci- 
pline that is adapted to any thing like the extent of the 
one under consideration, to bestow this, in connexion with 
so many other important advantages. 

But one of perhaps the highest excellencies of classical 
study, is exhibited in the cultivation of what I shall term 
the discriminating faculty ; to which belongs discernment 
of those slight and subtle shadings of idea, the perception of 
which is essential to all exquisiteness and elegance of taste, 
and all precision and power of language. Nothing so tends 
to quicken and sharpen this faculty, as translating from a 
significant and polished foreign language. Every phrase 
and word call it into exercise. From a multitude of defini- 
tions, or a general one, the student is required to select or 
invent a specific one, opposite and exactly apposite to the 
passage before him. Did the study of the Greek and Latin 
furnish no other advantage than the cultivation of this 
single faculty, this alone would amply justify the expense 
of time and toil bestowed upon them ; for this faculty is 
fundamental to strength and beauty of language; and 
language is povjer. 

Next in importance to ideas themselves, is the vehicle of 
their communication, as next in importance to physical 
strength are the organs and implements through which 



THE CLASSICS. 251 

that strength can exert iself. Indeed the slight rapier, 
adroitly wielded, is often an over-match for the huge bludg- 
eon, though whirled with the might of a giant ; and per- 
haps the opinion would hardly he preposterous that should 
maintain that the different intellectual power exerted hy 
different men, depends less upon difference of thought than 
of language. Thousands and tens of thousands that have 
gone down to unhonored graves, have had emotions as no- 
ble and glowing, as Tully or Demosthenes. Not Homer 
or Virgil, or Milton alone have had the power to conjure 
up forms of sweet loveliness and terrific splendor. No, 
there is in the mind of this world, beauty and nobleness, 
and grandeur of emotion, sufficient, could it start into voice, 
to electrify, quicken, and renovate its dark mass, but which 
must now be ever dumb thoughts, which like the chained 
eagle, may indeed lift their eye sunward, but may never 
hope to stretch their wing in that upper heaven which is 
alone their home. How different an instrument is lan- 
guage in the wielding of different minds ;— now evincing a 
taste fine as the touch of the blind— now a perception gross 
as the sensation of a Zoophyte — at one time dull, heavy, 
powerless ; at another, of prodigious and piercing power, 
polished, keen, massive and glittering as the celes- 
tial-tempered sword of Achilles — now harsh, dissonant, 
imperfectly and brokenly shadowing forth the idea — now, 
all music and sweetness, the unflawed mirror of nature, 
bodying forth with beautiful exactitude, the entire and pre- 
cise thought. There is a charm in the language of some 
men, often stronger than reason or argument. You feel 
every word they utter to be just tlie word, and that to alter 
would be to mar. Sentiments which from another mouth 
fall still-born, are transmuted into life, beauty and power ; 
and the listener is irresistibly borne on by them, either 
charmed by the seducing loveliness of the waveless stream, 



252 THE CLASSICS. 

or hurried onward by the torrent-fierceness of the foaming 
rapid. True, it may be said after all, that language is but 
an instrument — a vehicle. Be it so : vehicle though it be, 
it is as widely different with different minds, as the lumber 
wagon of the prairies from the Prophet's visioned wheel 
of the cherubim, instinct with vitality and motion. 

A study then that gives energy and precision to the in- 
strument of thought, might well seem to deserve a high 
rank in the scale of education ; and these accomplishments, 
the study of the classics is preeminently adapted to confer, 
not only by sharpening the discriminating faculty, but also 
by leading the student to trace themes, resolve compounds, 
and impress upon the mind the original and radical import 
of language. Moreover by constantly requiring the exer- 
cise of translation, and by opening the fountains of modern 
language, those fountains from which a great part of his 
mother tongue, and nearly all the nomenclature of art and 
science, and the learned professions, mediately or immedi- 
ately flow, it bestows copiousness and promptitude. Nor 
should I forget to mention here among the intellectual ad- 
vantages flowing from this study, that habit without which 
intellectual power is worthless, or rather which is intellect- 
ual power itself — the habit of piercing and steadfast atten- 
tion, attention that will make all the rays of intellect 
converge to one focus, and keep them there until one 
relation after another flashes forth, and the point, before 
dark and cold, fires and blazes. Such an intellectual process 
is required in the solution of those knotty difficulties that 
occur on almost every page of the classics. 

But I am aware that many who can not deny the important 
relations of this study, to mental discipline, still urge that 
it is like the sports of the Gymnasium, valuable merely as 
a strengthening exercise, but barren of collateral or ulte- 
rior benefit. Could the charge be sustained, could it be 



THE CLASSICS. 253 

shown that the classics are valuable merely as a means of 
mental discipline, still they would stand upon the same 
ground with most of the mathematics ; and until something 
else, equally efficient for the purpose of intellectual culture, 
could be found, they would richly deserve all the attention 
they now receive. But the charge can not be sustained. 
I challenge a man to point out a study that combines, to so 
high a degree, with the power of disciplining, that oi furn- 
ishing the mmd — furnishing it with the riches of taste, sen- 
timent and fact. Impugned as the classics have been, I am 
at a loss to know where, in profane literature, may be found 
imagery of more dazzling or gloomy magnificence, softness 
more tender, or beauty more radiant — where more brilliant 
wit, or pungent satire — reflections more profound, or sharper 
dissection — and stronger paintings of the human character. 
Where will you find sterner political virtue, or a loftier 
disdain of chains or shame, than leaped in the pulses of 
freedom in her fresh and ardent prime ? Whose accents 
were more moving, have produced mightier results, — whose 
song has been elaborated to a more faultless degree of 
sweetness and elegance, whose picturing has been more 
vigorous and to the life, than those of the elder-horn of 
poesy, eloquence and history. But they need not my eulo- 
gium. Faults they undoubtedly have — for they are human — 
but notwithstanding their faults, the voice of twenty centu- 
ries, and the verdict of the intellect and taste of the world 
have long since placed them as models of taste, above cen- 
sure or panegyric. 

In matters of taste, antiquity is umpire and law-giver to 
the world. In statuary and architecture, their fragments are 
the unrivalled admiration of the moderns — the memorials 
of a beauty, and a majesty, the conception of which has 
passed from the human mind ; or the execution from human 
art. Still goes the artist on his pilgrimage to the eternal 



254 THE CLASSICS. 

city, to gaze on the soft loveliness of the goddess of beanty, 
or the graceful majesty of the Grod of light. Still lingers 
the traveler in awe-strnck admiration beneath the fault- 
less proportions of the Pantheon or the mouldering grand- 
eur of the Parthenon. In science and the arts, the progress 
of mankind is onward — the extreme goal of the past is the 
starting point of the succeeding generation. But in the 
monuments of imagination, taste, eloquence and poetry, it 
is not so. Science and the arts, the treasures or experience, 
may be inherited — but genius is not inheritable ; it is an in- 
communicable attribute. Neither are taste, imagination, 
eloquence and poetry, its high and peculiar prerogatives, 
transmissible. But in these spheres, where nature alone 
confers the original elements of power, and experience and 
observation can merely inform and direct that power, the 
human mind seems, in the earliest ages, in some instances, 
to have shot at once to the zenith. Indeed the twilight 
of science seems in some respects most favorable to the 
works of imagination, inasmuch as it gives her a wider 
and a wilder field, and presents the universe invested with 
freshness and mystery, and instinct with life and passion, 
and shows everv thin 2: with dim outline, and in a mas^ni- 
fying obscurity. Consequently, in works of this character, 
the human mind seems to have reached, compared at least 
with its present attainments, nearly its mature excellence, 
two thousand years ago. 

If, then , you wish to train the mind of the student to 
pure, native, and vigorous taste, steep him in the classics. 
Do this moreover because throughout the republic of letters, 
they are universally received as models and master-pieces 
in their kind, and are the recognized stanclarus of criticism. 
It is a matter of no small moment, to have inwrought into 
the mind of the student, models which have the sanction 
of universal taste, which are above the shifting caprices of 



THE CLASSICS. 255 

section or period, and will place liim on common ground 
with men of letters, throughout the world. But where 
can he find such models, or such common ground ? Not 
in his own, nor in any modern tongue — nowhere hut in 
those which are the learned languages of Christendom — 
the archetypes of modern taste, literature and language. 

Again : not only does the study of the ancients enrich 
the imagination and the taste hy a familiar intimacy with 
the most perfect models, hut it engraves definitely and in- 
delibly upon the mind, facts of tlie most intey^esting, impor- 
tcmt, and loidely extending relations. It baptizes the stu- 
dent into the mind of the early world — its morning life and 
dew-glistening beauty — its strong-pulsed youth, — its strug- 
gle of principles and its fierce energy of passion and action. 
The study of language is the study of mind, for language 
is its mirror, the reflection of its progress and development. 
Written language is crystalized thought. Thus the 
study of the ancient classics opens to the student a novel 
and most interesting view of the human mind, amid new 
influences and in new attitudes, and under the v/idely differ- 
ent circumstaces of a widely distant age — an age too that 
more than any other, has contributed to fix the intellectual 
and moral complexion of all subsequent time. What study 
can hold forth higher inducements of pleasure or advantage, 
than that which unfolds to the student the philosophy, art, 
science, opinion, feeling, politics and religion, of the most 
interesting of heathen nations, in a most interesting pe- 
riod of the world ? which embosoms him in the passion and 
emotion of brilliant and mighty generations long since 
passed away, but which have left upon the human mind an 
impression and an impulse as imperishable as mind itself? 
Or again ; what study can be more ennobling and liberal- 
izing than that which keeps the student in habitual famili- 
arity with minds of the highest order and power the world 



256 THE CLASSICS. 

has ever known, that laps him in the private life, in the 
bosom, thought, and feeling, of the human race, extending 
his fellowship beyond the narrow sphere of self or kindred 
or country, through the gone-by world, uniting in his sym- 
pathies the noon-day magnificence of the present, with the 
perished love and hope that glimmer mid the mournful 
gloom and starry grandeur of the lone and beautiful past ? 
The classics are the connecting link between the minds of 
the past and that of the future — the chain electric through 
which the spirit of the young world, in its newness and 
unshorn strength, is communicating the quickening shock, to 
the sluggishness of its age. 

Again — if we wish to hold communion with the past, 
where can we find a spot of stronger light and attraction 
than that covered by classic literature ? There are a few 
periods which seem like crises in the world's history, and to 
have stamped their own impress upon all the rest. Among 
these are the periods embraced by the classics— they were 
big with destiny to all the future. What people can furnish 
a more interesting or profitable theme of study than they who 
have inwrought their soul into the soul of the world — than 
they whose fragments are models, whose applause the decrees 
of taste — whose palaces were cities — whose provinces, em- 
pires — whose tax-gatherers, kings — whose armies, ministers 
of fate ? First, the day-star from the dark ocean of years 
arises to the eye of the student, the genius of Greece — bril- 
liant, volatile, enthusiastic ; cradled amid glassy seas and 
beneath a heaven of the purest azure — in a land where 
groves of myrtle and cypress, vermilioned with the rose, 
tasseled with the vine and embowering streams of warbling 
silver, where the scorched zephyr might repose his silken 
wing, or dip his fervid cheek, contrasted with the rugged 
sublimity of mountain cataract and storm-chafed billow — 
where nature by her visible forms seemed to inspire that 



THE CLASSICS. 257 

love of the picturesque, the elegant and the majestic, which 
afterward breathed forth in her architecture, her statuary, 
her painting, and her literature. Her commerce diffused 
her art and language throughout the ancient world ; her 
colonies gemmed the Mediterranean, the Levant, and the 
Euxine. But farther meanwhile than her arms, her col- 
onies or her commerce, her intellect was acqiring an 
empire that was to endure long after the star of political 
ascendency had crossed the Adriatic ; and upon which the 
Goth, the Tartar and the Turk, were to have no power, 
which was to cover and outlive the thrones of the Ptolemies, 
the Caesars, and the Caliphs, survive the darkness of the 
Middle Ages, and extend far beyond her fabled Atlantic, to 
ocean-born worlds in the unknown west. 

Next arises that fourth form in the empire — vision of the 
prophet — dark, iron-teethed, solitary in its gloomy strength, 
and dreadful beyond a name. And what people will you 
find whose history has so important a relation to the pres- 
ent — which gives so clear an insight into the elements, the 
rise, the original form and purpose of the institutions and 
polity of modern nations, as that of Rome ? The scream of 
her eagle was heard along the Danube and the Euphrates : 
it waked the echoes of the frozen Alps, and the torrid Atlas, 
from the Pyrenees to the Caucasus, through the dark for- 
ests of the north, and over the burning plains of the Ori- 
ent, she poured the iron whirlwind of her armies — till, as 
from her mountain-throne she looked northward and south- 
ward, and eastward and westward — all from the wintry 
wilds of Scythia to the land of eternal summer — from 
where the Tigris flashed in the rising sun, to where day's 
dying smile hung over remotest Britain — all were hers. 
And wherever her banner of conquest floated, there she 
planted her institutions, her colonies, and her language ; 
so that she mav with truth be called not only the mother 
22 



258 THE CLASSICS. 

of empires, but of institutions, of language, and literature 
to most of the civilized world. 

Again — To citizens of free states, where in history can 
be found lessons of political experience more rich in 
instruction, than in the records of the ancient republics ? 
Where will you find written in characters of stronger light, 
or darkness, the causes of the growth and decay of liberty, 
than in the story of the democracies of Greece — fierce, 
stormy — brilliant as the ephemerides, and as transient too — 
now streaming in blinding splendor to the upper sky — for 
a moment fiaming in the zenith — then exploding forever? 
Or than in that of the stern freedom of Eome, from her 
wolf-nursed infancy, to her purple and crowned strength, 
and on to her corrupt and besotted dotage — till the last day 
of darkness and blood, when from the north and the south, 
and from the four winds, the nations of the earth gath- 
ered to lay her in the grave ? Nor let it be said, that 
changed time and circumstance divest these lessons of their 
pertinency and value. Human nature is not changed, 
the passions and propensities of man are not changed; 
and while these remain the same, any political experience 
will be relevant, though it extend to the dark years beyond 
the flood. Look over the Federalist, and those papers that 
sprang from the discussions attending the establishment of 
our constitution, and you will find them full of reference 
to classic times and history. The truth is, those times, 
especially for free states, were preeminently the experi- 
mentino; era of the human race. There were discovered 
principles in politics and philosophy, which succeeding times 
have served only to illustrate and confirm. They are to the 
history of the world what geometry and trigonometry are to 
actual measurements, surveys and voyages. Principles 
are few and simple — facts are infinite and complicated. 

But it is in the relation of the knowledo^e communicated 



THE CLASSICS. 259 

and the principles demonstrated to the christian revelation, 
illustrating its allusions, evincing its necessity, and confirm- 
ing its proofs, that perhaps the highest importance of the 
facts furnished by classic study is exhibited. All knowl- 
edge of the philosophy, opinions, manners and morals, of 
the ancient heathen world bear directly upon these points. 
It was in that age that the great battle was fought by 
uninspired philosophy and intellectual culture, with the 
principle of evil, and that it was shown that without the light 
of a revelation, the latter would ever triumph. Then was 
exhibited the human mind, surrounded with every advan- 
tage for speculation and discovery, cultivated to its highest 
strength and refinement, yet in all its splendor and 
mightiness, an archangel in ruin, blinded, fallen, — strug- 
gling, but baffled and vanquished evermore, till in the 
period of flat despair. He that is mighty to save, wrought 
out the great salvation and brought life and immortality 
to light. Of the importance of this study to illustrate the 
allusions, and language, and progress of Christianity, 
sufficient evidence is found in the facts that the Christian 
revelation was communicated in the age and language of 
the classics ; that it has its earliest records and proof treas- 
ured up in their tongues ; that with the people they exhibit, 
was its first bloody struggle ; and over the mind of the 
one, and the arms of the other, was its first glorious tri- 
umph. Among the advantages flowing from this study, 
and tending to furnish the mind, I have given the prece- 
dence to the one last mentioned ; inasmuch as I consider it 
almost impracticable to enter fully into the spirit and cir- 
cumstances of the age of Christ, without a knowledge of 
its literature and language; and that, without a feeling 
conception of that spirit and those circumstances, it is im- 
possible fully to appreciate the evidence of Christianity. 
But that this evidence ought to be branded upon tlie pub- 



260 THE CLASSICS. 

lie mind, till it is incorporated with popular tliouglit, and 
the national soul, and consequently, that the exhibition of 
it ought to rank below nothing, in the scale of an educa- 
tion claiming to he liberal, in a Christian land, I need not 
stop to argue. 

I have now gone over with some of the advantages 
accruing from the study of the Greek and Latin classics. 
Others might swell the list ; but I will spare your patience. 
I am aware that if taken separately, they may be shown, 
most of them, derivable from other studies ; though some I 
think, can not be secured at all, and others only in an infe- 
rior degree, from any other source. But they should be 
considered as an aggregate, as so many streams flowing from 
one fountain. 

I come now to my second division of proof relative to 
this subject — that derived from experience ; and here I shall 
be brief. It is a matter of common knowledge, that the 
resurrection of taste, and that of pure Christianity, in 
Europe, were cotemporary ; that it was under the united 
breath of the classic spirit, and that of religious reform, 
that the intellect of the world awoke from death, shook 
itself from corruption, and put on, as we hope, the wings 
of its immortality. These were the spirits that moved 
upon the abyss — and life, light, order, and beauty sprang 
from the night and ruin of the Middle Ages. Such was the 
new birth of taste ; and experience has shown that tlie same 
influence that quickened it to newness of life is still essen- 
tial to its health and purity. In literature and the fine 
arts there is to the master-pieces of antiquity a finish, 
and a grace — a softness, and a strength of expression and 
development, from which succeeding times have differed, 
only to deteriorate — changing the simple majesty of Ionian, 
or the airy elegance of the Corinthian, or the life that 
waked under the Attic chisel, into the rudeness of the 



THE CLASSICS. 261 

Gothic, or the tawdriness of the Arabesque, or the mum- 
my-like sculpture of Cairo or Benares. Look through the 
whole circle of modern literature. Its purity and vigor, in 
every period of its history, and in every nation, will bo 
found unerring criteria of the attention paid to the ancient 
classics — its feebleness and corruption invariable conse- 
quence of their neglect. For proof I refer to the histories 
of English, French, and especially German literature. If 
it be objected that the revival of classic literature in these 
countries at different periods, was the consequent and not 
the cause of the revival of the vernacular, still the acknowl- 
edged invariable concomitancy would show a mutual influ- 
ence and a natural connection between these results. But 
history shows that whenever an age or country has been 
marked by peculiar zeal for classic literature, constellated 
splendors have burst forth from the firmament of mind ; 
names of genius have appeared in clusters. Not, that all 
those distiguished in the literary annuals of those times 
and countries, were profound classic scholars ; but their 
minds had assumed their growth and form in the atmos- 
phere of classic taste, which a general devotion to this 
study had rendered national. The model before them, the 
public mind, to which they formed themselves, was of clas- 
sic origin. Such is national experience ; let us inquire 
after individual. 

Look over the records of those whose names in modern 
times have been a power and a despotism in the empire of 
mind. Are they not, almost without exception, those who 
have drunk deeply at the classic fountains, or streams flow- 
ing from those fountains ? Even most of those commonly 
quoted as exceptions, will be found on examination, rather 
apparent than real ones. Even Shakespeare, himself, 
nature's own great magician, though his classic lore may 
have been scant, was far from having his mind unimbued 



262 THE CLASSICS. 

by classic influence. The taste of the nation and the court 
for which he wrote was decidedly classic. It was an age 
of intense enthusiasm for this study, and no one can tell 
how much influence this may have had upon the shapings 
of his fancy. Thousands have felt the influence of the 
classics, who have never opened them. But it may perhaps 
be objected that the development of intellectual power in 
the individual cases alluded to may have been a mere 
concomitantj not a consequent of this discipline — that it is 
impossible to discriminate between the effects of this and 
other cotemporaneous branches of education. I appeal in 
reply, to the consciousness and testimony of those who have 
experienced its results — of such men as Erasmus, Thomas 
Moore, Wolsey, Milton, Lowth, and Sidney, who have 
recommended this study — of Eobertson, who ascribes wliat- 
ever merits he possesses as a historian, to the study of 
Xenophon, Livy, Tacitus and Thucydides — of Brougham, 
who aftirms this study to be the best means he knows of 
forming a pure and energetic English style — of Stuart, 
who says, that whatever power of nice discrimination he 
possesses, he owes to this more than to all other studies — 
of William Pitt, Robert Hall, Good, Gifi'ord, and Dwight, 
who it is well known, during their very busy lives, were in 
the constant habit of resorting to thif pursuit, to brace 
up and invigorate the overwrought mind. I appeal to the 
well known devotion of Bacon, Selden, Burke, Parr, Bar- 
row, Johnson, Canning, Mackintosh, Ames, Jefterson, 
Adams, and others too numerous to mention, to the same 
study ; a devotion, not at the university alone, but exhib- 
ited by many of them under the pressure of the multifari- 
ous business, and immense responsibilities. I might add 
to this list, Cicero, who practised and recommended trans- 
lating from the Greek. Were all these incompetent, so 
hood-winked by prejudice, or such careless and dim-eyed 



THE CLASSICS. 263 

self-observers, that where their own experience and con- 
sciousness are concerned, their testimony is to be rejected ? 
I would be willing to leave the arbitrament of this ques- 
tion to the results of individual observation ; of the effects 
of this, compared with those of any other discipline what- 
ever, upon minds previously apparently equal, and with 
this exception, submitted to similar influences. Or I 
should be willing to leave it to the consciousness of a vast 
majority of individuals who have given this discipline 
opportunity to produce its legitimate results. As for one 
who had pursued it no farther than to embarrass himself 
in a wilderness of elementary and technical perplexities ; 
who had learned merely to fumble his dictionary, and par- 
rot a jargon of literal changes and grammatical terms, I 
should not suppose he would derive any peculiar delight, or 
fancy himself lO have acquired any splendid advantage 
from such an employment. Should he retire from the 
study at this stage, I should expect him to retire with 
exasperated spleen and nauseating disgust ; pursued by the 
ghosts of abominated lexicons and grammars, and abun- 
dantly ready, as well as in his own conception competent, to 
pronounce sentence of utter condemnation upon the loathed 
pursuit. That one who had been as yet contending with 
a bewildering chaos of strange forms and sounds, and had 
not struggled his way up to light, should fall in love with 
classic learning and appreciate its beauty and excellence, 
were as little to be expected as that he should conceive of 
the majesty of St. Peter's, from the rubbish of a stone 
quarry, or of the splendors of ancient Babylon from look- 
ing at the slime pits on the plains of Shinar. 

I am aware that it is often objected to the study of the 
Greek and Latin, that many who are compelled to pore 
over them during their college course, forget them as soon 
as they graduate. There are several mistakes involved in 



264 THE CLASSICS. 

this assertion, and tlie conclusions deduced from it. In the 
first place, few of the individuals alluded to, can be induced 
to pore over any thing, and they have little to forget — so 
that the objection lies not against the study itself, but 
against pretences to it. And I care not how strenuously 
this be urged, so that a proper direction be given it ; and 
would be glad, could it produce an ntter divorce of some 
minds from the classics : for I am far from contending that 
they are adapted as a study for all. On the contrary, I 
am aware that there seems to be a natural and invincible 
repellancy between them and some intellects ; and it were 
to be wished that their parents and guardians could see it, 
as well to save nature from torture, as to relieve the 
cause of classic learning from the hostility, and worse still, 
the reputation, of those who seem to themselves qualified con- 
demners, and to all the world beside, living demonstrations 
of its inutility. Here let me not be misunderstood. I am 
far from intending to imply that all who have arrayed them- 
selves against the classics, come of course under this 
description. It is as far from my wish as my purpose to 
foreclose discussion in that way. On the contrary, I know 
that some in those ranks have got their armor of strength 
from the very source against which they are now employ- 
ing it. I fear it will be found more difficult to acquit them 
of ingratitude than of incompetency — of a want of grat- 
itude which others, while charmed with their taste and 
eloquence, can not forbear cherishing toward the very 
study against which that taste and eloquence are directed. 
All I wish is that the testimony may go for what it is 
worth, and the classics may not be indicted for the faults of 
nature. To return. In the next place, if the classics are 
forgotten, there is no necessity that they should be ; and it 
is only evidence thus far, that any other learning inflicted 
on the mind would share the same oblivion. Moreover if 



THE CLASSICS. 265 

the objection be sustained, it must operate no less strongly 
to the excision of philosophy, geometry, and most of the 
mathematics, which are commonly equal sufferers by the 
same infirmity of memory. Again: It is a mistaken 
opinion that considers a study as barren of utility, because 
the facts or principles of it are liable, in time, to escape 
from the memory. Facts, and even principles, may be 
forgotten, and yet the benefits of the mental discipline 
remain : for education is an apprenticeship, designed not so 
much to accumulate materials, as to teach the use of tools — 
not to fill reservoirs, but to make living fountains — not to 
overload the mind with undigested truths, but to give it 
the power of discovering all discoverable truth — not to bloat 
the bulk, but to give elasticity to the muscles, and tension 
to the sinews. Your walking encA^clopedia may indeed lum- 
ber along the beaten track, but his unwieldy mass, dropsied 
and emasculated by his crude surfeit, is hardly adequate 
to any thing more. But to mark out to itself a new path, 
leap the ravine and scale the mountain, and pierce the 
heaven of original truth, to overpass the bounds of past 
science and discovery, and spread the wing over the mighty 
void beyond — to bridge chaos — this requires a nerve, hardi- 
hood, and boldness, to be acquired only by long continued, 
and intense mental agonism. He into whose mind has 
been prematurely huddled a promiscuous and universal 
miscellany of facts, may have been introduced to a mag- 
nificent panorama of shows indeed, but nothing more. He 
pierces as little into the real and intrinsic relations of 
things, as would a traveler whirled in a stage-coach by 
night, through the illuminated streets of a mighty city. 
Upon the universe of truths into which he has been led, he 
looks with the eye of the savage. He may glance over the 
magnificence of mountain, river, ocean, forest, flower — he 
may lift perchance his insect gaze upon the splendors of the 
23 



266 THE CLASSICS. 

eternal skj, but it is to him "a mighty maze, aud all 
without a plan." He turns away pained and oppressed by 
an overwhelming confusion of mysteries and splendors — a 
wearying wilderness of dazzling phantoms, glittering 
forms, and inexplicable marvels — all without classification 
or order, but massed together with the wild profusion and 
disorder of the rude rock and broken cloud. But to the 
mind that has been practiced in .analysis and generalization, 
that has been trained to systematize, classify, and symme- 
trize, order, as if by enchantment, springs from all this 
confusion — every subject and phenomenon presented, is 
grasped by the attention, as with the tenacity of a vice, 
and submitted to an analysis as searching as that of the 
compound blowpipe — elements are detected — principles are 
evolved — proportions are discovered — laws are demonstra- 
ted — clouds and shadows flee, till under the potent magic 
of this arch chemist nature seems new-born — the rugged 
mountain becomes the home of fairy wealth — the steam- 
car annihilates space — the river, that for a thousand win- 
ters had rushed darkly on, the lone and desolate barrier 
between lone and desolate shores, suddenly becomes the 
bearer of wealth and happiness, of the products of art and 
genius, to unnumbered millions upon its green and gar- 
dened borders. And man, as he stands upon the margin 
of the ocean, and stretches his vision over the heaving 
world of waters, no longer contemplates it as the everlast- 
ing empire of solitude and ruin, but as the thronged high- 
way of nations, whitened over its vast expanse by the 
snowy wings of commerce, and yielding from its azure 
bosom the treasures of a thousand climes. Yea, more, the 
very sand upon which his foot presses has been converted 
into an instrument that has changed the immense above 
him from a hemispheric vault, hung with lights, to an 
abyss of blazing worlds, all in their labyrinthic, but 



THE CLASSICS. 267 

accordant orbits, by one simple law propelled with sublime 
harmony through their everlasting wheel. No less differ- 
ent is the same world of truth and fact, in its aspects to minds 
differing in the characteristics above alluded to. So impor- 
tant is it that the mind should be trained and disciplined — 
be taught to arrange and digest — rather than be crushed 
with lumber. 

Again: It is often objected that students, during their 
college course, neither do, nor can acquire, a thorough 
knowledge of the languages they profess to study. Grant- 
ing this to be the fact, and supposing they are pursued no 
farther after the college course has been finished, still it 
has been shown that the study would not be barren of 
benefit. The effects of the mental discipline might remain. 
But the college course is framed upon the presumption that 
the study of them will be continued— and if the student 
acquires knowledge enough of them to be able to pursue 
them with little difficulty and with interest and accuracy, the 
great point is gained ; he will not be likely to discard them, 
but they will be the delightful companions of the retire- 
ment and leisure of his after life. The college course 
assumes not to accomplish and perfect the scholar ; it can 
claim little more than to point out the righ^ path, to direct 
to the fair forms of truth and of intellectual and moral 
beauty, and to give taste and power to pursue and attain 
them. Man's course of education extends through life — 
through eternity. 

But the study of the classics takes much time. So does 
anything else worth acquiring. Perhaps, however, it does 
take more time than is necessary ; that a different mode 
of instruction, with greater facilities and more system, 
would secure greater proficiency in less time. But let it 
be shown that even now it takes time disproportionate to 



268 THE CLASSICS. 

its importance, and I will admit the relevancy of the 
objection. 

Again: It is contended that the study of the classics 
tends to repress and smother nationality and originality of 
literature — that it makes genius imitative. When it can 
be shown that the study or perusal of works of distin- 
guished power, as a matter of course, sinks genius to the 
servility of a copyist, then the force of this objection may 
be allowed. But then, let it be recollected, it will bear 
against all monuments of intellectual power whatsoever, 
ancient or modern, foreign or vernacular, and will seal up 
all alike. But before we suffer ourselves to be driven to a 
conclusion so undesirable, let us inquire what is meant by 
nationality and originality of literature. Now, the funda- 
mental principles of taste are the same in all ages and 
climes, and in every human mind, lettered or unlettered, 
civilized or savage. If by nationality and originality is 
purported a dereliction of these, I grant the study of the 
classics would tend to depress them. But let us not con- 
found originality of genius with Ishmaelitish lawlessness. 
Of those fundamental principles, the literature of no nation 
can claim to be independent ; for these are immutable and 
eternal, based upon the laws of the human mind ; and it 
is in part to exhibit and impress these, and render the 
mind more quick and delicate to feel and apprehend them, 
that the study of the classics is recommended ; for taste, 
though not a creatable, is still an improvable faculty ; but 
it is in the novel application of these principles to new 
forms of nature and art, and new phenomena of mind and 
matter, according to the circumstances of an age or people, 
that all desirable originality or nationality of works of 
taste and imagination consists. Moreover, let us beware 
of supposing that originality in such works is the result of 



THE CLASSICS. 269 

careless, indolent, and random flights of the mind ; for in the 
course of ages and in the infinitude of past thought, most 
of such easy and chance flights have heen already flown. 
Genuine and desirable originality requires effort of the 
highest and strongest kind. It is the sparkling gush, or 
the red-hot overflow of a mind, whose faculties and emo- 
tions have heen intensely aroused and exercised ; it comes 
in the playful splendors of the rainbow, or the scorching 
radiance of the lightning. But come as it may, in the 
lightning or the rainbow, it ever marks the strong work- 
ings of elements beneath ; it is the result of just that 
waking-up of power, which the discipline and consideration 
is adapted to produce. That it is not repressed and crushed 
by this, is fully attested by a view of modern Germany, 
than which no nation has been more enthusiastically de- 
voted to the study of the classics, and at the same time, 
none more boldly original in its literature. But it is said 
the classics themselves were produced without the aid of 
model or criticism. This assertion we know to be true ofj 
only a small part of them; and even with regard to 
Homer himself, no one can aiOSrm this with absolute cer- 
tainty.- But granting it to be true to its full extent, it is 
also true that the ancients coasted around Africa and floated 
to America without the aid of chart or compass, and there- 
fore from the same grounds we have the same reasons for 



*Homer and Hesiod, though to us they stand out in bold relief as 
isolated originals in literature, are probably only the survivors of a 
mighty wreck, preserved by their surpassing splendor from the oblivion 
that overtook crowds of cotemporary or antecedent poets or minstrels, 
some fragments of whom have floated down to us, bearing the names of 
Orpheus, Linus and Museus. The assertion that ancient literature was 
created without model, may be tested somewhat by facts of this kind: 
Demosthenes transcribed Thucydides eight times. At the time of 



270 THE CLASSICS. 

throwing away the latter and committing ourselves to the 
guidance of the stars, the winds, and the waves, as we have 
for rejecting models and criticisms, and surrendering our- 
selves up to the chances of hitting the '' cunningest pattern 
of excelling nature," amid the hap-hazard caprices and con- 
ceits of different ages and countries. We should also recol- 
lect that except the Bible and a few other sacred books of 
the Scandinavians and Asiatics, the classics are the sole sur- 
viving relics of the thought of four thousand years ; and 
probably, if they, and all other models and criticisms w^ere 
blotted out, we might amid the chance-flights and happy 
accidents of four thousand more, produce literature equal to 
them. Whether the prospect will warrant the experiment, 
I leave others to judge. But the classics, as far as they 
were produced without the study of models, should be con- 
sidered as specimens of intellectual power, rather in despite 
than because of the want of the discipline under considera- 
tion ; a discipline similar in its effects, they must have un- 
dergone (for nature produces no Minervas full-grown and 
armed,) and it is contended that the required discipline can 
be found no where so easily, or in so high a degree of excel- 
lence, and of adaptation to different ages in life, as in the 
study of the classics. We should also remember, that where 
nature produces one Homer, one born monarch, she produces 
millions that require to be led and governed ; so that the 
only question left us is, not whether you will commend 



Alcibiades, Homer "was commonly studied in schools, as a standard text- 
book of poetic excellence. iEschylus informs us that his tragedies are but 
" scraps from the magnificent repasts of Homer." Cicero always repre- 
sents himself as a devoted admirer and student of Grecian models. His 
treatise " de oratorej" and all the ancient works on rhetoric and criticism, 
those of Aristotle, Longinus, Dionysius Hallicarnassus, Horace, and 
Quinctilian, are full of reference to models. 



THE CLASSICS. 271 

tliem to any models, but to what exemplars, and to whose 
guidance you will commit them. 

As for the vulgar notion that learning necessarily clogs 
genius, it hardly seems worthy of a serious refutation. 
Rather it sometimes supplies the place of it. No one, not 
even a master-spirit himself, is incapable of improving from 
observation upon another master-spirit ; nor is it classic 
learning that has repressed the warmth of modern elo- 
quence and poetry ; no ; extinguish the classics, but leave the 
state of philosophic research, and physical science unchanged, 
and you may render mankind coarse and brutish ; but you 
will not make them Ossians or Isaiahs. In order to this, 
you must either eclipse the sun of science, and surround man 
with the softened mezzotint and unpierced gloom of an un- 
explored world, or you must unseal some new and profounder 
fountain of emotion, or open some loftier and mightier field 
of imagination to the human mind. Learning did not 
quench the genius of Milton ; nor did the want of it make 
Bloomfield a Homer. 

But again : It is objected that the study of classics is 
immoral " If it be so, it is a grievous fault." But is- it so ? 
Is it necessarily so ? I do not ask w^hether obscenity or im- 
purity is to be found on any page of the Greeks or Latins ; 
for by such a trial we should condemn the literature of every 
nation under heaven — and none more strongly than our own. 
Yet we should entertain but little respect for tlie liberality or 
wisdom of the man who on account of the obscenities of Pope 
or Swift should lay an interdict upon the pages of Lowth, 
Milton, or Lock. But are the pervading spirit and general 
tendency of the classics corrupting ; are they so universally 
and essentially thus, that there can be no severance, no res- 
ervation ? If so, let a bonfire be made at once of the whole 
mass of them. Highly as is to be prized disciplined and 



272 THE CLASSICS. 

accomplished intellect, the interests of the moral man are 
incomparably higher. But it is not so. There is a great 
part of their literature that might he put into the hands 
of the young, with as little apprehension as any modern 
standard author, and with much less danger than many 
which the Christian public read, tolerate, and recommend. 

The stern virtue of Tacitus — incorruptible by the seduc- 
tions of a luxurious court, and the smiles or frowns of dark- 
souled Csesars : is that more to be dreaded than the artful 
gloss of Hume ? the pure page of Xenophon, or Livy, than 
the malignant sneer of Gibbon ? i]w urtless simplicity of 
Herodotus, or the manly honesty of Polybius, than the 
coward venom of Yoltaire ? Is Juvenal's unsparing cauter- 
ism of the rank vices of a dissolute age, and a bloated em- 
pire, more corrupting than the sentimental voluptuousness 
of Moore ? or even the frank epicureanism of heathen 
Lucretius more deadly than the heartless levity, and dev- 
ilish heroic of Byron ? AVhat is the so much dreaded 
demoralizing tendency of the subtle dialectics of Aristotle? 
or the beautiful speculations of Plato ? or the splendid crit- 
icism of Longinus, or the honeyed flow of Isocrates, or the 
fiery logic of Demosthenes, or the graphic and terrible ener- 
gy of Thucydides, or the brilliant rhetoric and philosophic 
amenity of Cicero, or the rural charm of VirgiFs Georgics ? 
Place Homer, Euripides, Sophocles, Terence, Horace and 
the iEneid, beside Shakespeare, Chaucer, Dryden, Pope and 
Sheridan, (I shame to name Sterne and Swift in this con- 
nexion) and I fear little from a comparison of indelicacies. 

Is it urged that the former writers were heathens, and 
recognized as gods, beings, stained with impurity and crime ? 
That very fact tends much to disarm the objectionable por- 
tions of their writings of their power to injure; for they 
insulted and blasphemed not a revelation of love and purity. 



THE CLASSICS. 273 

Their philosophy and virtue were the creatures of the twi- 
light, and the student in a christian land regards them as 
such, and looks with wonder, disgust, and sorrow, rather 
than love or admiration, upon the counterfeits worshiped 
among them, — of that which the sunrise of revelation has 
unfolded to him, in its pure truth and beauty. Nor is there 
danger that the genuine will suffer from a comparison with 
the false. The supposition is a libel. On the contrary, 
its loveliness will become, from the contrast, still more 
lovely. 

And as to the objection that the contemplation of false 
religions tends, necessarily, to shake one's confidence in the 
true, it is entirely unphilosophic ; and would, moreover, if 
admitted, shut our vision against modern systems of idola- 
try, as well as the ancient. But, written as the classics 
were, under the night of heathenism, there are few passa- 
ges, I am aware of, where vice is held up as an object of 
admiration or imitation — but she is generally exhibited, to 
be scourged. However, as it is desirable that the warm 
temperament and passion of youth should not become famil- 
iarized with vice, arrayed in the meretricious allurements of 
a fastidious voluptuousness, and in the elegancies of taste 
and imagination, the objectionable parts may be — have been 
retrenched. There is field wide enough, rich in brilliancy 
and attraction, where there need be no suspicion of poison in 
the fiower. Selections may be made — expurgated editions 
may be used. 

But, it is objected that the classics foster the loar- 
spirit. If by the war-spirit be meant that which leads a 
man to scorn dishonor, and to hazard and devote his life 
for the public good, I would not wish to quench it ; and I 
think it may be imbibed as well from sacred as profane 
history. Examples of it may be found in both, and may, 



274 THE CLASSICS. 

wherever found, be productive of some of the nohlest vir- 
tues. But, if by the charge is meant, as I suppose it is, 
that tlie classics breathe a sanguinary, and vindictive style 
of heroism, the objection lies no less strongly against avast 
majority of modern literature ; for in our histories, biogra- 
phies, dramas, epics, lyrics, and oratory, there is the same 
confounding of this, with the spirit above mentioned, as in 
the classics ; so that the same decree that shuts the latter, 
shuts the former — shuts Shakespeare — and Milton, too, for 
surely his sublime impersonation of the heroism of evily 

" The waiting revenge, 
Unconquerable will, immortal hate, 
^ And courage never to submit or yield, / 

Even to the Almighty," 

must come under the same interdict. So that the question 
lies, will you debar the student from the advantages of 
nearly all profane literature, for this one tendency? Or 
will you endeavor to secure these advantages, and correct 
that tendency ? Or, rather, in educating a youth for a 
world where a corrupt public sentiment will meet him at 
every step, will you give him no intimation of the influences 
he is to encounter — conceal from him the angel-of-light dis- 
guises which crime can assume, and throw him, unwarned, 
and unarmed, into a blind fight, with passions and opinions, 
of whose nature he is entirely ignorant ; and whose over- 
mastering power he is utterly unqualified to resist ; a feeble 
and sparrow-pinioned flutterer, in the blast where the storm- 
practised wing of the eagle alone can live. Here ignorance 
is not safety ; knowledge of the danger that he must encoun- 
ter, will alone enable him to resist and overcome it. As 
education claims to be the qualifying for human life and 
action, it might well be asked how that scheme would satisfy 



THE CLASSICS. 275 

this definition ; or how it would prepare one to influence 
or reform mankind, that should keep him ignorant of the 
principles and motives that sway the great mass/-^ That 
piiysician would be but poorly qualified for his business, who 
would study the physiology of bodies in health, alone ; he 
must aquaint himself with their morbid action and phe- 
nomena, even though it be at the hazard of contagion. 
Moreover, introduced as the student must eventually be, to 
the extremes of bad passion and atrocity, invested by a cor- 
rupt public sentiment, with the fair outsides of honor and 
virtue, it may well be questioned whether the mind can be 
introduced to them under more favorable auspices than un- 
der the original guardianship of a parent or an instructor, 
who will unmask the idol, tear away those fair outsides, and 
expose the hideous deformity and ulcerating corruption that 
lurk beneath. If it be urged that this plan reposes too 
much upon the presumed intellectual and moral capacity of 
the instructor, I answer that, institute what course you 
please, its efficacy must depend upon the same ; for this 
must be the living principle of any system ; take this away, 
and leave what else you please, and it will be but dead and 
perverted machinery. But previous to the hazard involved 
in even this plan, the moral principle should be fortified and 
informed by a moral education. Indeed, moral education 
should ever precede and accompany the intellectual. The 
former should begin with the beginning of thought ; should 
be commenced in the cradle, and as an additional safeguard. 



"^The project of debarring cliristians from classic literature, tas the 
singular infelicity of having already been attempted by two individuals, 
one as preeminent in the annals of ecclesiastical intrigue and domination, 
as the other in those of craft and rancorous hostility to the christian re- 
ligion — the haughty Hildebrand, and Julian, the apostate. The attempt 
of the latter, as Milton remarks, was more pernicious than the persecu- 
tion of Dioclesian, 



276 THE CLASSICS. 

the study of the Bible ought to be required, prior to, and 
cotemporaneously with, that of the classics. There is a 
certain habit of mind, that like the spider, extracts poison 
from the sweetest and loveliest objects in nature ; another, 
that like the touch of Midas, converts every thing to gold. 
The only safety in such a world as ours, lies in the formation 
of the latter habit. 

Again : It may be objected that other studies might be 
substituted in place of the classics, which will avoid all their 
dangers, and secure all their advantages, and besides, in- 
troduce the student to a more interesting and important cir- 
cle of facts. This objection I have already anticipated, in 
part. There need be no danger : there can hardly be a 
more interesting and important circle of facts ; at least, I 
know of none that exhibits them in connexion with so many 
other advantages. Is it natural history, or chemistry, you 
would substitute ? They may, it is true, furnish a species 
of discipline ; but how different is the mental effort of obser- 
ving and naming the physical peculiarities of plants, min- 
erals, «r animals, from that involved in the tasteful transla- 
tion of a splendid passage, or the solution of a knotty diffi- 
culty, in the classics. And, with reference to the facts ac- 
quired, it surely is not less important to become familiar 
with the history, powers, and products of the immortal 
mind, than to investigate the modifications of matter, than 
to be able to name all the organic forms on the surface of 
the earth, or all the crystalized masses in its bosom, 
Shall we substitute modern languages and literature ? 
They can not furnish the same intellectual discipline : they 
are not so philosophic or highly finished languages ; they 
do not exhibit the same rich and nervous brevity, nor the 
same nicely adjusted and perspicuous complexity, reflecting 
the exact order of succession and suggestion, in the opera- 
tions of the mind. In the next place, they do not embody 



THE CLASSICS. 277 

literature of so high an order ; or at least, not that which 
is recognized as the standard literature of the world ; nor 
is any of them the universal language of criticism, and 
commentary and lexicography ; nor is the study of any of 
them interwoven with facts that have so extensively incor- 
porated themselves with the mind and history of the civil- 
ized world, or which have so wide bearings upon the relig- 
ion, philosophy, and literature of our own age ; for, as I 
have before remarked, the age of the classics was the birth- 
age of principles, in politics, philosophy, and religion. 
There are laid the foundation of our faith and hope — there 
Christianity is attacked, and there she must be defended. 
Moreover, the ancients furnish a key to the modern lan- 
guages ; and the shortest way of learning any considerable 
number of the latter, lies through the former ; and I will 
add, neither can the familiar imagery and allusions of mod- 
ern literature be fully understood, nor can the philosophy 
and power of the English, or any modern European 
tongue, be thoroughly learned, except from the study of the 
ancients. 

As it regards works in our own language, what I" have 
just remarked with reference to modern literature, in gen- 
eral, will apply to them. Few possess the finished 
elegance of the antique — none have the same universal 
authority, or general relations. And, besides, English 
words are apt, by habitual familiarity, to become to most 
students, before habits of attention are formed, the grave- 
stones, rather than the signs of ideas ; so that the mind, if 
at all inclined to indolence, deluding itself with mere forms 
and sounds, can hardly be roused to that sharpness and 
intensity of effort to which it is the object of education to 
train it. And here it may not be amiss to give the results 
of Cicero's experience, as narrated in the person of Crassus, 
upon the comparative advantages of studying one's 



278 THE CLASSICS. 

vernacular, and a foreign language. He first adopted the plan 
since recommended by Dr. Franklin, and others, for the 
attainment of good style — that of translating from authors 
in his own language. He selected, as he informs us, for 
this purpose, the most elegant passages from Ennius and 
Gracchus. " Bat,'' says he, ** if I used the same words 
it was of no service to me ; if difterent, it was injurious ; as 
I was compelled to take those which were less appropriate 
and elegant.'' He then resorted to translating from Greek 
models ; " and," says he, " by this moans I obtained, that 
I might employ, the best words already in common use ; 
and also, might be driven, by the exigency of translation, 
to invent original modes of expression." 

But, shall we substitute translations ? Here the same 
objections meet us. The difficulty of arousing and fixing 
the attention, and the entire loss of the important advan- 
tages derived from linguistic study. Bare facts, indeed, 
may be obtained by means of translations, but facts derive 
their interest and value from their perceived relations to 
the spirit and circumstances of the age in which they 
transpire. Stripped of these, they have as little practical 
significancy or value, as an isolated character of the Chinese 
alphabet, or a solitary star gleaming through the dark- 
ness of a storm, but from its singleness revealing to the 
mariner no constellation. But the spirit and circumstances 
of an age or people, can not be fully apprehended from 
such a perusal as a translation would be likely to receive ; 
they require, in order to their being strongly perceived 
and felt, just that investigation and mental efibrt, essential 
to an accurate study of a difficult and philosophic foreign 
language : they require to be associated with the idiomatic 
nerve and elegance of the literature of those periods and 
times. But these can hardly be retained in a translation, 
more than the rich sculpture of an ancient vase can survive 



THE CLASSICS. 279 

the recasting that transforms it into a modern flagon; or 
than the energy and beauty of life can he transfused into 
the shapeless mass of atoms, into which the organic frame 
has been resolved. Besides, if one wishes to be an 
independent thinker and investigator, he must be free 
from the necessity of servilely taking things upon trust, 
and must himself have access to the original fountains of 
evidence. 

With reference to the objection so often urged, that all 
that is valuable in ancient, has been transfused into mod- 
ern literature, and that the study of the classics, however 
necessary in former times, is no longer so— the answer is 
obvious. First, that the power of conferrring the great 
intellectual advantages, furnished by the study of the most 
elegant and philosophic of languages, is in its nature 
intransfusihle. And secondly, whatever may be the excel- 
lence of modern literature, (and in some departments it 
deserves a very high estimate,) there never was an age 
that required more frequent resort, than does the present, 
to the simple nature, the rich thought, and the accurate 
conciseness of the original masters. It is an age of care- 
less extravagance and barbaric profusion in style, and of 
crudeness and dilution in thought ; an age, when the stu- 
dent should be led immediately to the Bible, to Bacon, 
Milton, and Butler, to Homer, Plato, and Aristotle, rather 
than be sent to seek their thought, diluted and adulterated 
in the swollen sewers of modern literature ; let him be led 
to contemplate truth and taste, in their own temples, 
rather than be sent to feel for their scattered frao-ments 
up and down, through the high-ways and by-ways of the 
whole earth. 

But lastly, and I may add, with the show of the gravest 
reason, it is urged that the Bible should displace the clas- 
Bics. And here let me enter my protest against my 



280 THE CLASSICS. 

advocacy of profane, being cons true din to a wish to derogate 
from the claims of sacred literature. Far, far from me be 
such mole-eyed folly ; far ever be it from me to gaze on any 
earth-born luminary, until it fills the horizon of vision, and 
shuts out the orb of eternity. On the contrary, as a means 
of intellectual discipline, I would advocate the study of the 
Bible, on nearly the same grounds as those on which I have 
attempted a defense of the classics ; besides the exhibition 
of moral truth, between which and all other truth it were 
irreverence to institute a comparison. In the glory and 
importance of the truths communicated, and I may add in 
tlie vehicle of their communication, the Bible is as far above 
all human books as the heavens are higher than the 6arth. 
And even to the infidel, no volume, as a subject of philos- 
ophic investigation, as an influencer of the moral, political, 
and social condition of the world, would be more worthy of 
study. But to those believing as we do, that it is the 
transcript of the mind of God himself, surely no book 
should take the precedence of it, from the kindling of 
intellect to its extinction. It should be the study of youth, 
manhood, and age. It should be studied in the transla- 
tion, and in the original, and should have its place as a 
classic, previous to, and during the college course. Highly 
do I honor the zeal and labor of those who are endeavoring 
to arouse and rectify the public mind on this subject, and 
gladly shall I hail the day when popular prejudice and 
sectarian jealousy shall permit, and the demands of the 
community shall require, its introduction into all our col- 
leges ; and not restrict a volume of such universal relations 
and value, to theoloo;ical schools, or institutions hanp-ino: 
out the banner of sect. Nevertheless I am strongly 
opposed to suhstituting it in the "place of classic literahirey 
and that for several reasons. First, because each has an 
important and appropriate sphere, which itself alone can 



THE CLASSICS. 281 

fill. The Bible in its sphere is above comparison — it is 
the sun in the firmament, admitting in the same heavens no 
star— and yet the stars are not unworthy the telescope of 
the astronomer. The Bible, for its purpose, is perfect. But 
we should recollect that its main purpose is the revelation 
of moral truth — and when we push its claims beyond what 
is essential to this, we are liable to assert for it preroga- 
tives, which its wise and benevolent design did not require, 
and perhaps forbade. Although its literature is, in its 
kind, splendid beyond comparison, still it is unique in its 
character and purpose ; and to claim for it to be a univer- 
sal text-book of belles-letters, or logic, rhetoric, and crit- 
icism, in matters of a secular nature, would approximate to 
the absurdity of challenging for it authority in natural 
philosophy, astronomy, politics, or metaphysics. Moreover, 
the scope and design of revelation did not admit the exhi- 
bition of all the phases of man. They required him to be 
exhibited as a creature of God, in his relations to the ruler 
of the universe. Other relations are introduced only so 
far as they serve to illustrate this ; yet, notwithstanding this 
is the great and absorbing relation of man, there is still a 
vast variety of other attitudes in which the purposes of 
human life demand that he should be reviewed. I object, 
moreover, to the classics being displaced, because they are 
important to illustrate and authenticate the scriptures, and 
to show their adaptation to the nature and wants of man ; 
and every one knows the importance of a knowledo^e of 
classic Greek, to the intelligent translation of that of the 
New Testament. 

Again : Although the study of the Hebrew may confer 
many of the intellectual advantages yielded by the classics, 
and some of them in a still higher degree, still there are 
others it cannot furnish to an equal extent. It was pos- 
sessed of much more power for some purposes, but it did not 
24 



282 THE CLASSICS. 

admit of the same precise and logical accuracy as the Latin 
and Greek ; nor does the translation of it put in requisition 
the same subtle and rigid analysis. From these considera- 
tions, I am oi?posed to suhstituUng the Bible in 'place of the 
classicSf but think an education claiming to be libeyrd should 
embrace both. 

But " the study of the Greek and Eoman classics, is not 
practicaV^ Eefuted, as other objections have repeatedly 
been, this is still pertinaciously and triumphantly reiterated, 
as if summing up in itself " the head and front of all offen- 
ding." But if a study, combining the advantages already 
enumerated, be not practical, I am yet to be informed what 
is so. Much is said now-a-days, about the i^ractical ; it is 
a practical age — every thing must be practical. Nothing 
has become more fashionable in the investigations of the 
present day, than to deny to a subject this epithet, and then 
fulminate against it sentence of condemnation. But before 
condemning by an epithet, it is best to come to definitions. 
What is meant by the term practical ? Are we to call that 
knowledge exclusively such, which is actually put in use in 
active life? How then are the higher investigations of a 
Newton, or a La Place ? How are astronomy, conies, a great 
part of Euclid, or natural philosophy, to the vast majority 
of men, practical? 

Man conld eat, drink, perform the functions of his physi- 
cal existence, mingle with the dust, which, during life would 
seem rotting into his soul, without a knowledge of optics 
or mineralogy, without even lifting his earthward vision to 
the rainbow or the stars, without ever dabbling in poetry, 
or the fine arts, without suspecting that the earth revolves, 
or that the sun was a world. But do we confine the term 
practical, to these limits ? do we restrict it to that which 
fills our pockets, or satisfies our physical appetites and con- 
veniences ? No — we feel it would be degrading ; would be 



THE CLASSICS. 283 

brutalizing. We feel that knowledge is of itself desirable 
and ennobling — that whatever tends to refine, exalt, expand 
and liberalize the mind, eondnces to the perfection and hap- 
piness of man; that is, is in the highest sense, practical. 
Now, as it regards the daily exigencies of life, it yet remains 
to be shown, how the study of the ancient languages is not 
as practical, as that of a great part of the mathematics, 
(which I believe commonly are admitted to be so) ; how a 
knowledge of the properties of the ellipse or cycloid is more 
so than that of the nomenclature of the arts, sciences, and 
learned professions ; or how it is oftener necessary to be able 
to demonstrate, that the abscissas are as the squares of the 
ordinates, than to understand the technicalities of theological, 
legal, or medical inquiry. But in the higher and more 
liberal sense of the term, if that which confers strength of 
memory, the power of steadfast attention, rigid analysis, 
and prompt induction, acuteness of discrimination, and co- 
piousness and precision of language — which sharpens the 
perception, and enriches the imaginative faculty — which im- 
bues the student with the spirit of ancient taste — famili- 
arizes him with the standard master-pieces in rhetoric, his- 
tory, poetry, and criticism ; illustrates to him the philoso- 
phy of speech, and of mind ; introduces him to the learned 
languages of Christendom, and the fountains of his own 
tongue — which exhibits to him the ruined action and fate 
of the mightiest and most interesting nations the world 
has ever seen — the brilliant republics of Greece, and her, 
the seven-throned mother of empires, institutions, language, 
and literature ; which displays to the student the most im- 
portant and splendid period in the history of man — that 
period which '' sealed up the vision, and the prophecy, and 
brought in everlasting righteousness ;'^ if, I say, a study 
•which possesses all these advantages combined, be not practi- 
cal, what in human learning is, or can be so.? 



284 THE CLASSICS. 

To conclude, then, till some weightier objection can be 
urged, or some preferable substitute can be found, let us 
cherish with gratitude these bequests of the mind of the 
past world — thankful that we are permitted to enjoy in 
peaceful tranquility, these glorious monuments of genius, 
that were wrung from the agony and convulsion of ages of 
profound excitement and fearful strife. 

Still let the student be led to the streams gushing from 
the virgin bosom of nature — still let him be introduced to 
the giant spirits of olden time, and be kept in their society, 
till his soul becomes overshadowed with the spirit of the 
antique ; till " Tulley's voice, and Virgil's lay, and Livy's 
pictured page ;" the simple sublimity of Homer ; the moral 
grandeur of JEschylus ; the tempest of Pindar ; the pathos 
of Euripides ; the terrific energy and splendor of Demos- 
thenes; the nervous painting of Tacitus, and swan-like 
sweetness of Horace, become to him the resurrection of 
buried eloquence, majesty, and beauty ; till transported to 
the once " bright clime of battle and of song," 

" He draws the inspiring breath of ancient art, 
" Where at each step imagination burns" — 

saunters amid the shades of the academy ; reclines in the 
porch of Zeno ; wanders amid the Pantheon's forest of 
painting and statuary ; or trembles in silent awe, beneath 
the mighty marbles of the Capitol, or Coliseum. Then 
let him be introduced to a still higher circle of influences, 
and be shown the relations of all his concentration of wealth, 
genius and power, to the history of man, as a moral being ; 
its relation to the Christian religion, affecting its progress, 
illustrating its language, confirming its proofs, and evincing 
its necessity; demonstrating that the human mind, on the 
throne of power, with the highest refinement of taste, and 
development of intellect, with all aids to apprehend and 



THE CLASSICS. 285 

feel tlie religion of nature, without tlie light that cometh 
from heaven, would still grope like a hlincl man in the blaze 
of noon; and showing moreover in its history, how the pride 
of philosophy, the despotism of taste, false glory and virtue ; 
deified vice, and consecrated lust, arrayed in splendor, 
beauty, and power ; in the pageant of the circus, the theater, 
the triumpli and the throne ; armed with the fasces, the 
scepter, and the eagle, with the rack and the flame, the 
sneer of the sophist, and the rage of the bigot, sank before 
the simple eloquence of the cross. 

Thus have I, in some measure, (very imperfectly, I am 
aware), expressed my views upon the subject proposed. Its 
importance must be my apology for the time I have tres- 
passed upon your patience. It has been my wish to avoid 
all invidious comparisons, in examining the results of indi- 
vidual observation and experience — and I wish to be un- 
derstood as far from asserting that the mental discipline, 
claimed for the classics, is not possessed in a high degree 
by some who have never opened them ; in a much higher 
perhaps, than by a large" majority of those who have ; 
for genius is not of human creation. But let such individ- 
uals remember, that it is by no means certain, that that 
intellectual power, they are conscious of having acquired, 
without the aid of this study, would not have been much 
increased with it ; and that however acquired, it is the fruit 
of years of patient and arduous mental exercise of some 
kind, to which, while no one is more ready to yield honor 
than myself, I must be pardoned if I prefer what is in my 
view, an easier, surer, and speedier course to the attain- 
ment of the same end. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION 

BY NATHANIEL HOLLEY, A. M. 



The excitement whicli has prevailed in the United 
States for several years, on the subject of education, we 
hope will not he permitted to pass away without producing 
great, beneficial and lasting results. And it is certainly a 
favorable symptom, "when so learned, so popular and so good 
a man as the late Mr. Grimke, shall make great exertions 
to draw public attention to this important point, and at the 
same time endeavor to detect errors and propose remedies. 
But such is the low state of education at present, and so 
great the darkness and errors attending it, that it would 
be unreasonable in us, to expect that any one man, or in- 
deed any number of men, should be able at the present 
time, to devise a system that would in all respects be per- 
fect. New systems and modes must be substituted for those 
we now have, and in these also, errors must be discovered 
and rejected, and thus trial must succeed trial, and experi- 
ence must improve upon experience, until we shall arrive 
at something far superior to any thing that we at present 
know of, or perhaps can imagine. But this great change must 
be gradual. Errors and mistakes must be removed by little 
and little, as in ancient days the Canaanites were driven 
out by little and little from before the children of Isi-ael. 

With respect to the character and intentions of tliat 
(286) 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 287 

great and good man, on whose plan of education we are 
called upon to report to your honorable body, there exists 
we believe but one opinion. All admired, esteemed and 
loved him ; and we believe we can say, that none could 
hold him in higher estimation than your committee. But, 
however great his merit, he laid no claims to infallibility, 
and only requested that his errors should not be attributed 
to selfishness or design. To this we know full well, there 
can be no dissenting voice. And as his most earnest desire 
was to benefit his fellow creatures, he would have rejoiced, 
no doubt, at the detection of any error in his projected sys- 
tem, before it could produce any injury. And if he could 
do this, while here on earth, where the wisest can only see 
through a glass, and that darkly, how much more is 
he now raised above every selfish feeling, in that happy 
and more exalted state of existence, where errors never 
reach, but light and truth forever shine. 

In the examination of the plan before us, we discover 
many things that merit our highest approbation ; among 
which we find recommended in the strongest terms, a 
thorough knowledge of our own country — of its discovery 
and settlement — of its geography — of its customs, manners 
and government — of its first settlers — of its eminent men, 
as theologians, statesmen, and scholars. It also recom- 
mends a full acquaintance with all our best writers, and an 
accurate and extensive knowledge of the English language, 
together with the ready use of it, in composition and conver- 
sation. But above all, the strong and repeated recommen- 
dations of morality, piety, and a strictly religious life, 
founded on the practice of the christian virtues, and a close 
adherence to the doctrines of the sacred scriptures. With 
the spirit of these propositions, we hope there are few, if any, 
who can feel dissatisfied. These things appear to us so im- 
portant, and recommend themselves so strongly to every 



288 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

considerate mind, that we believe it unnecessary to use any 
argument in their support. There is, however, in the plan 
before us, one very prominent and distinguishing trait, 
which demands our particular attention, to wit : the exclu- 
sion of the classics and mathematics from a general course 
of education. And as this is the main object of the whole, 
it will necessarily follow, that to this point, our remarks 
must be chiefly directed. 

Among the first objections to the classics and mathemat- 
ics, it is alledged, " that they are just as fit a part of edu- 
cation in a despotism, or in an aristocracy, as in a republic ; 
— that they are equally applicable to the state of soci- 
ety which prevails in Prussia, Switzerland, Spain, or Hol- 
land, as to that of Great Britain, or the United States : 
and that they suit as well those countries, where the relig- 
ion of Fohi, of Brama, or of Mohammed exists, as those in 
which Christianity is the general creed. And as to national 
literature, have they any more connection with that of Eng- 
land and America than they have with that of Germany, 
Portugal, or Italy? But the weight of these argumemts 
are summed up in the following general assertion, viz : 
*' that mathematical and classical studies suit nearly as 
well all forms of governments, states of society, religions, 
and literatures." And this is advanced as conclusive evi- 
dence against them. But with the highest respect for the 
character of the writer, and all due deference to the opinions 
of others, your committee are constrained to say, that they 
can not discover any force in this argument against the 
study of these branches, but a very strong one in its favor. 
For the greater and more extensive the use of any thing 
can be made, the greater, most certainly, must be its value. 
We believe it is admitted, at any rate not denied, that this 
study, when it receives proper attention, must necessarily 
discipline, strengthen, aud systematize the mind. This 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 289 

immortal part of a human being requires nourishment as 
well as almost every thing else that we have any concern 
with in this natural world ; and if this is not received, all 
the powers and faculties of the mind must consequently 
dwindle into in significance. And, even in this enlightened 
country, we have abundant evidence, to prove the truth of 
this remark. For, as material food is designed to nourish 
and invigorate the natural body, and thereby bring all its 
powers and faculties to maturity, that it may become a 
suitable instrument in the performance of the various 
duties of life, — so one of the most important objects of edu- 
cation is to nourish and invigorate the mind, and bring all 
its powers and faculties to maturity, that it may thus be 
prepared for all the various duties of life, not only in this 
world, but in that which is to come. And if it can be proved, 
of which your committee have not a single doubt, that the 
faithful study of the classics and mathematics have a mighty 
tendency to produce these effects on the mind, it must 
undeniably be a weighty argument in its favor. But for 
the further proof of the inefficiency of the opposite argu- 
ment, permit us, by way of illustration, to ask, if it would 
be any mark of wisdom or goodness, or even of wise policy 
for us, who profess to be Christians, to refuse the use of any 
good thing, because its advantages are not confined to our- 
selves ; shall we, for example, reject the finest wheat and 
other kinds of the most wholesome food for the nourish- 
ment of the material body, together with the water that 
flows from the purest fountains, and all this, because they 
are equally used, and equally useful among those w^hose 
religious and political opinions are different from ours, and 
because the use of them is equally advantageous to the 
believers of Fohi, the followers of Brama, or the disciples 
of Mohammed? The Great Creator has declared that he is 
no respecter of persons, and we see that the sun, his most 
25 



290 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

glorious representative in tlie world of matter, and the 
great source of natural day, continually dispenses his light 
and heat without partiality or sectarian influence, upon all 
the inhabitants of the earth. And the clouds of heaven 
are commanded to pour down the enlivening showers of 
rain, upon the just and the unjust. And, as it w^ould be 
inconsistent with the principles of Christian charity, to wish 
to deprive any of the children of men of the blessings which 
Divine Providence has bestowed upon them ; so it would be 
unwise, to say the least, to reject any of them ourselves, 
because they are useful to others. 

As the Great Creator of the universe is the fountain of 
all wisdom and power, so is he the fountain of all knowl- 
edge. AVhatever of wisdom, or of science, we possess, 
we must therefore have received directly or indirectly 
from him. But as he is infinite, and we are finite, — as he 
dwells on high, in light ineffable, and full of glory; and as 
we can only grope about in much darkness while here in tliis 
lower world, it is consequently impossible that we can 
either comprehend him or his perfections. We can at 
most only apprehend, as he has been pleased to manifest 
himself or his perfections in his works of creation and prov- 
idence. 

Among the natural sciences known to man, there is no 
one so strongly marked with the impress of infinite wis- 
dom as that of the mathematics. Every thing that we can 
behold in the works of creation, has been formed upon 
mathematical principles. If we take a philosophical view 
of the structure, proportions, and movements of our own 
bodies, as well as those of all other animals, we shall find 
a striking exemplification of this truth. And so we may 
in the formation and revolutions of the earth and the moon, 
and, indeed, of all the planets, comets, suns and systems in 
the universe. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 291 

And, in addition to this, the principles of the mathemat- 
ics are of every day use, in the common concerns of life. 
No valuable building can be raised without them ; nor 
without them, can any ships be taught to traverse the 
ocean, or any carriages to roll upon land. When, there- 
fore, we duly consider the importance of this science in 
every department of life, and view it as the connecting 
link between the works of God and the works of man, we 
can not but feel an attachment for it, almost bordering 
on reverence. 

In favor of the classics, also, many forcible arguments 
may be advanced, unknown to many, and even by some 
classical scholars, themselves, too much disregarded. There 
is something dignified and venerable in these languages: — 
they stand as monuments of ancient ingenuity, taste, and 
intellect. And the Greek, in particular, is considered the 
most systematic, philosophic, and elegant language ever 
known in the world. To devise such a language, seems 
hardly to come within the scope of a mind merely human. 
And it would require but little enthusiasm to make any 
one who understands it well, to view it as the effect of an 
influence superior to man. 

The Hebrew, Greek, and Latin are called the dead lan- 
guages, because they are not the common or every-day 
language of any nation or people whatever. They are 
always the same, while living languages are ever in a state 
of fluctuation ; and in some, in a few years, and in others, 
in a few centuries, the change is so great that they can 
not properly be considered the same. But when we reflect 
upon the immutability of these languages, and their impor- 
tance in a religious and literary point of view, your com- 
mittee are unable to reject the belief that they have been 
providentially preserved for the benefit of the human family. 



292 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

We can not but view it as a matter of some surprise, that 
those who profess so strong a regard for the divine revela- 
tion, contained in the sacred scriptures, and given for the 
salvation of man, should feel so little regard for the lan- 
guages in which that revelation was made ; and in which it 
has been preserved to the present time, and will probably 
continue to be, as long as time shall endure. 

These lanpruaffes have remained unchanged and un- 
changeable for some thousand years. And it has been 
through the medium of these, that every thing that was 
valuable in ancient days, has been handed down to modern 
times. And had these become extinct, when the nations to 
whom they belonged became powerless, every thing of 
religion, of science, of law or of refinement, together with 
the Bi,ble itself, would, as far as we can judge, have been 
lost in one common ruin. It was not in the people, who 
existed for many hundred years after that time, nor in the 
fluctuating and imperfect languages which they used, to 
have preserved any of these things. All nations were 
ignorant and barbarous, and were continually waging war 
against each other, and seeking their own aggrandizement 
by dealing out destruction to all around them. And in the 
history of these times, we can find little, save one contin- 
ued series of wars, robberies, murders and extirpations. 

There existed, it is true, even in those days, scattered in 
different countries, a few wise, learned, great, and good 
men; they were philosophers, they were philanthropists, 
and they wrote much for the benefit of posterity ; but they 
wrote not in the ephemeral languages of their respective 
nations, but in the Latin or Greek, which the learned 
every where understood, and by which, in all ages, they 
have been able to hold inter-communication, which could 
not otherwise have existed; and through which many 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 293 

valuable works have come down to us, whicli without these 
languages, could never have been written, or, even if written, 
could never have been preserved. 

Between the commencement of the Christian era, and 
the hegiuning of the eighteenth century, many writers in 
Latin, at different periods, made their appearance. We do 
not pretend, however, that all these authors were of the 
highest order, or that they were in possession of extraordi- 
nary talent or merit. But many of them certainly were. 
And these it would be impossible to read with attention, in 
the language in which they wrote, without becoming wiser 
and better. And whoever shall do this, will consider him- 
self abundantly paid for all the trouble, time, and money 
expended in learning the Latin. All translations are more 
or less defective. And such of these writers as have been 
translated, do not appear exactly the same in English as 
they do in Latin. Much of the life, the point, the force 
and the flavor, if we may so express ourselves, seems to be 
lost. It is like clothing a family of one nation in the ha- 
biliments of those of another, with little or no regard to 
the peculiar taste and habits of each, or any adaptation to 
size or form. 

We can not believe that any one could ever regret reading 
in Latin such writers as Tacitus, Pliny, Quintilian, Juvenal, 
Persius, and many others. If we attempt to get at such 
authors through the medium of a foreign translation, they 
seem to be carried at such an immense distance from us, 
that we are unable to derive much satisfaction or profit. 
But when we read them in their own language — the very 
words and sentences which they themselves wrote — when 
■we observe the nice choice and arrangement of these, the 
energy, force, and peculiar adaptation of expression to mean- 
ing, we seem to be brought into the company of the authors 
themselves. We feel their influence, we feel their virtues, 



294 AMEKICAN EDUCATION. 

their inflexible integrity, their firmness and philanthrophy. 
And although many hundred years have intervened between 
their time and ours, still we may find, to use a common 
expression, that their writings are not yet cold, but glow 
with ardor, sentiment and life. The best works of the 
Latin writers, remain as yet untranslated, and are there- 
fore altogether hidden from the mere English reader. 
Some of these treat of the natural sciences, as philosophy, 
astronomy, etc., and may justly be considered as very able 
productions : and there can be but little doubt, that at some 
future day, these neglected works will be read with great 
satisfaction and improvement. There have also been many 
writers in Latin, on the subject of Christianity, and it 
would indeed be a happy circumstance if all could read and 
understand them. And at the present time, when the 
subject of education is exciting considerable interest and 
attention, all of us ought certainly to seek for information 
wherever it can be found. And, perhaps, there are no 
works from which we can derive greater advantage on 
this point, than from the writings of Ludovicus, Vivis, and 
from the Novum Organum Scientiarum of Lord Bacon. 
These, we believe, have never been translated, nor have we 
any desire they should be, for we feel as if every person 
engaged in the business of instruction, whether male or 
female, and whether in a primary school or university, 
should be able to read them in the original Latin, and 
thoroughly digest and understand them. 

It is admitted by the author of the plan before us, that 
a knowledge of the classics and mathematics is indispen- 
sable to the person who intends to become a thorough 
scholar.* If the knowledge, then, of these branches is so 



*"'In a note appended to his oration delivered last year at the Miami 
University. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 295 

important to the scholar, we would inquire, why all should 
not become scholars and enjoy the same advantages? To 
deprive the great mass of the community of the privilege 
of a thorough education, is establishing, at once, the prin- 
ciple of a learned aristocracy — it is supporting the old idea 
" of the learned feiv, and the ignorant many,^^ and is in 
direct opposition to every principle of true republicanism. 
If this knowledge improves, enlarges and refines the mind 
of the scholar, and enables him to think and reason more 
closely, acutely, deeply, and extensively than others, it 
would, ceteris paribus, produce the same effect upon all, 
and, of consequence therefore, ought never to be denied to 
any, especially in this land of liberty, where we profess to 
believe that all mankind are born equal. 

To produce a full development, and bring into complete 
operation all the powers and faculties of body and mind 
which the great Creator has given us, would be the work 
of a perfect education. And to such an education, every 
child of the human family, is justly entitled. And it is 
vain to look for many valuable and substantial improve- 
ments in the world, or for any great amelioration in' the 
state of society, any very important and valuable 
changes in civil government, or for ariy better reception or 
more extensive spread of true religion, until the way shall 
be prepared by the universal adoption of such a system of 
education. But to return from this digression, we shall 
now proceed to prove that an accurate knowledge of the 
English, which all admit to be of great importance, can 
be more easily and much sooner attained, by means of the 
Latin and Greek, than it possibly could be in any other 
way ; or to speak plainer still, that it never can be done in 
any other way. The reason is plain; our language is 
altogether derivative, that is, all our words are taken from 
other languages, and, by a little alteration, are anglicized 



296 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

and made into English. The primitives or roots trans- 
planted from the Latin and Greek into English, are about 
eleven thousand, and these compounded with various 
prefixes and affixes, would probably increase the number 
to a hundred thousand, thus constituting bv far the 
greatest part of our language. It follows then that most 
of the English is substantially Latin and Greek, as can 
easily be ascertained by those who may think proper to 
examine."' There are many of these Latin roots, or parent 
words, from which there have been taken from fifty to two 
or three hundred words, the most of which are in common 
use. And these are scattered from the beginning to the 
end of our dictionaries, according to the initial of their 
prefixes, and thus all connexion or relationship is lost, 
and has hitherto been little thought of or known, by 
parents and teachers, as well as by pupils. The prefixes 
and affixes are few, and easily learned. Even children 
will in a short time obtain a knowledge of their meaning 
and application, to a considerable extent. And they pro- 
ceed with a rapidity and a pleasure altogether unknown to 
the old mode of teaching language. Why it is that clas- 
sical scholars have so generally overlooked the analysis of 
language we shall not pretend to say. But in every 
instance where we have known the subject brought before 
them, and a few illustrations given, the truth seemed to 
flash upon them at once ; and, after a little reflection, the 
whole subject would open to tlieir minds. They would 
express great delight and astonishment. Delight, at the 



''^ •' Suppose the English language to be divided into a hundred parts ; 
of these, to make a rough distribution, sixty would be Saxon, thirty 
would be Latin, (including of course the Latin which has come to us 
through the French,) five would be Greek." — Trench's English Past and 
Present. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 29T 

beauty, regularity and use of tlie system ; and astonish- 
ment, that they had never seen it before. They no longer 
felt any regret that they had ever studied these languages, 
but they felt considerable regret that they did not under- 
stand them more perfectly. 

We will here give a few examples of analysis, applied 
to practice ; and they are so plain, that we trust, even those 
of our audience, who have never heard any thing of the 
kind before, will be able to understand them. 

We have in our language one hundred and twenty words, 
all of which are derived from the Latin verb specio, to see, 
to look, to behold. Of these, thirty-eight have no 
addition in English, but are used the same as in Latin, 
with the exception of fourteen, which have a letter or two 
left off at the end. Twenty more are used with the 
addition only of one letter, twelve more with the 
addition of two letters, and twelve more with the addition 
of three ; but the remainder have more. We have 
mentioned this merely to show that there is not half the 
difference between the Latin and English, that is gener- 
ally supposed. But as words without meaning are of no 
importance, we will now apply this principle to definition. 
From the Latin verb specio, to see, is derived the English 
verb specify, which signifies to make plain to be seen, or 
understood ; fy at the end of words in English always sig- 
nifies to make, as purify, to make pure, clarify, to make 
clear, certify to make certain, simplify to make simple or 
plain. From the same verb comes speculate, which signi- 
fies to watch, search, look sharp or observe. Speculation 
signifies the act of watching, searching, or looking sharp. 
Speculator, the man who searches, or watches, or looks 
sharp, and speculatrix the woman who searches, or watches 
and looks sharp. If we wish to look forward or backward 
or around, we adjoin to this word such prefixes as will give 



298 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

it these meanings. Accordingly we say retros2:)ecf, to look 
back, because retro signifies back, and sped to look. 
Retrospection therefore signifies the act of looking back. 
Circum signifies around, therefore circumspect means to 
look around and circumspection the act of looking around. 
Per signifies through, and persiMction the act of looking 
through. Perspicuous, is applied to that which can be 
seen through and imperspicuous to that which can not be 
seen through. Pro signifies forward or ahead; py-ospect 
means something that is seen ahead or forward. From 
pro forward, and moveo to move, comes promote, which 
signifies to move forward, as to promote a man's interest 
is to move it forward or help him onward. P'o forward 
and vide to see, gives us the word provide, which means to 
see or look forward, and provision, the act of looking for- 
ward, which is also transferred to the thing obtained by 
looking forward. De, from or down upon, and specio, to see, 
form the word despise, which means to look down upon 
with contempt, or to slight by looking away from, as we 
are apt to do from that which we dislike. Be signifies 
again, respect, of consequence, signifies looking again and 
is used to express esteem or regard, because we are apt to 
look again and again upon the person or thing which we 
much admire or highly esteem. Suspect means to look 
under, and suspicion, the act of looking under, because suhy 
the prefix, signifies under. A jealous or mistrustful per- 
son is always w^atching or peeping around, and in, and 
under, in order to see what he can discover. Suspicion is 
a stronger tenn than jealousy, because it is expressive of 
the action as well as of the feeling that induces it. 

From the Latin verb scribo, to write, we also have many 
derivatives, a few of which will be mentioned as a further 
exemplification of the use of the prefixes. Pe signifies in 
this case, about or concerning; describe of consequence 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 299 

means writing about or concerning any thing. Con signi- 
fies together, thus conscribe means to write several or many 
names or things together. In sometimes signifies upon ; 
inscribe therefore signifies to write upon. Interscribe 
means to write between. Superscribe to write above or 
over, and subscribe to write under. To trace the deriva- 
tion of many of our words is not only instructive but 
very amusing. The English word connive is formed of the 
Latin prefix con which means together and the verb niveo 
to wink. The word connive, strictly speaking therefore 
signifies to wink together. Many of us no doubt have at 
some time or other seen persons in company, who have had 
some secret plan or scheme in view, and would now and 
then slyly look at each other and wink. From some such 
occurrence as this, the word has taken its origin. And 
therefore when it is known that certain persons are secretly 
laying some plan or plot together it is said, they are con- 
niving together, that is ivi^ihing together. 

The English word circumstance is made of the Latin 
prefix circuMf around, and the present participle stanSf 
which signifies standing, or having a place. Circumstances ^ 
therefore, strictly mean the things whicli stand around. A 
man is said to be in good circumstances when the concerns 
or affairs which surround him are prosperous. Infant is 
formed from the Latin prefix in, signifying not, and fans, 
speaking, which is derived from the obsolete verb /or, 
meaning to speak. Infant therefore means not speaking. 
A term used to signify a child that is too young to speak. 
But if the word had not been appropriated to little chil- 
dren only, it might be applied with equal propriety to 
persons of all ages who are unable to speak. Erom the 
Latin verb "plico, to fold, we have a number of derivations, 
as complex, which signifies folded together. Simplex from 
dne, without, and plex, a fold, means plain, simple, without 



300 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

intricacy. Explicit signifies out of any fold, plain to be 
seen ; and implicit signifies in a fold, not plain to be seen. 
From the Latin polio, to smooth, or polish, are derived our 
English words, polish, policy, politics, politeness ; and they 
all mean to keep a smooth outside. The word polish is 
applied to any substance that has a smooth and shining 
exterior. It is also applied to the manners of any person 
when they are smooth, graceful and elegant. The estab- 
lishment of laws and regulations in the community is called 
politics^ because its object is to keep down or prevent dis- 
turbances, vice and crime, and enable society to live 
smoothly, quietly and happily. But the term, when given 
to what we call par^i/ p)olities, is altogether misapplied; 
for surely there is no smoothness or polish in any way con- 
nected with them. 

The Latin verb Fluo, to fiow, is the parent or head of 
about one hundred derivatives or descendants, in that lan- 
guage, and from these, we have about as many more in 
English. We suppose these might properly enough be 
called the grand-children. Fluence and fluency are 
derived from the present participle fluens, and signify 
flowing. The first of these is seldom if ever used alone, 
and the second, seldom, if ever, in composition, that is, 
compounded with other words. Fluency is applied to 
language, as we say a man speaks with fluency or that he 
has fluency or speech, when he speaks easily, readily, 
elegantly and without hesitation. Fluence always means 
flowing, but varies in manner according to the prefix with 
which it is conjoined. As confluence signifies flowing 
together. Circumfluence, flowing round; defluence, flow- 
ing from; effluence, flowing out of; interfluence, flowing 
between ; p)rofluence, flowing forward ; reflaience, flowing 
back; superfluence, flowing over or above. Sup)erfluou8y 
a word in common use, belongs to this family, and means 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 301 

also flowing over or above, that is exceeding the necessary 
or desired amount. Affluence, signifies flowing to, and 
might correctly enough he applied to whatever flows to any 
person, place or thing. But it is generally used in con- 
nexion with worldly riches, for when these flow in abund- 
ance into the possession of any man, he is said to be in afflu- 
ence, or in aflluent circumstances. InflueriGe^ strictly 
speaking, signifies flowing into ; when therefore a stream 
of water runs into a pond, or lake, or when a river empties 
into the ocean, it might with propriety be called influence, 
because they in reality do flow into. But it is not so used, 
but is generally applied to that controling power which 
flows from one person into the minds of others, and guides 
and directs them as he pleases. If in this way, he has the 
control of many, his influence is said to be great ; if few, it 
is small. 

The word iinpediment, together with the other words of 
the same family, can boast as curious an origin as any in 
our language. This word evidently had its beginning in 
the early days of Eome, when running swiftly on foot, was 
considered a valuable acquirement, either for the sake of 
carrying messages, or for gaining the victory in foot-races. 
In order to run swiftly, it was necessary that the foot 
should be entirely free from every thing that could operate 
as a hindrance or entanglement. Pes-pedis, or joede, signi- 
fies foot, and iyipede or impede, that the foot was in, that is 
in some entanglement or difficulty which obstructed or 
retarded its movements. But ex-pede was used to signify 
that the foot was out ; that is, free from any entanglement 
or hindrance. Hence are derived our English words impede 
and expedite, which ought to have been impedite as well as 
expedite. The flrst signifying to entangle or hinder the 
foot in its motions, and the other to disentanoie or remove 
all hindrances. Impediment means that which hinders or 



302 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

obstructs, or expedient (or cxpediment as the word should 
have been for the sake of uniformity) means that which 
removes hindrances and obstructions. When we say a 
certain thing is just, but not expedient, it is as much as 
to say, that although it is just, it will not clear the foot; 
that is, it will not remove the difficulties. If we say a 
man has an impediment in his speech, it would be, accord- 
ing to the original meaning of the word, as much as to say, 
that he has an entanglement of the foot in his tongue, 
which, as a figure of speech, might pass very well; but it 
is evident in this instance, and perhaps in all others at the 
present time, it is used only to signify entanglement, 
obstruction, hindrance, etc., without any such particular 
application as it formerly had. It must therefore be consid- 
ered as one example of the many changes that are contin- 
ually taking place in a living language. 

Words are transferred from the Greek into the English 
in the same manner and upon the same principle. A few 
familiar examples will probably be sufficient. The word 
Atheist, for instance, consists of three distinct parts, and 
each part has a distinct and separate meaning. A-the-ist. 
A, signifies without — tJie signifies God, and ist means a 
being or person. But, according to our English arrange- 
ment, it would stand thus, — ist, a person — a, without — tJiet 
a God: meaning a person without a God; that is, one who 
does not believe in a God, or in a Supreme Being. Astron- 
omy is derived from the Greek word aster, a star, and nomoi, 
laws. Astronomy, therefore signifies the laws or princi- 
ples by which the stars exist or move. Astrology is also 
from aster, a star, — o-logos, a word, or treatise, or science, 
or description. And, therefore means the science or 
description of the stars. This word has been much abused, 
for it has been made to stand for fortune-telling, or divina- 
tion, by the stars. But it means no such thing. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 303 

Astromancy is the word which signifies fortune-telling 
by the stars. The first part of this word is the same as 
the first of the two preceding, but the latter part of it is 
derived from the Greek noun manteia, which signifies pre- 
diction or divination. To this word, therefore, truly belongs 
the definition which has, by mistake, so long been given 
to astrology. From manteia, we have a number of words 
partly formed, and varying in meaning, according to the 
word with which it is united. As when joined to necros, 
which means a dead body, it becomes necromanct/ : which 
signifies divination, or fortune-telling, by the dead. Com- 
pounded in the same way, is Hydy^o-mancif^ which means 
divination by water. Aeromancy, divination by the air. 
Pyromancy, divination by fire; and chiromancy, divination 
by the hand. Every word that ends in meter, or metry, 
relates to measure or the art of measuring. As, diameter y 
from dia, through or across, and meter, measure, meaning 
the measure through, or the distance from one side of any 
round body through the centre to ih.Q opposite side. Aerom- 
etry signifies the art of measuring the air. Barometry, the 
art of measuring the atmosphere. Cyelometry, the art of 
measuring circles. EJydrometry, the art of measuring 
water. Thermometry, the art of measuring heat. Trigonora- 
etry, from tri, three, gonoi, corners, and metry, measuring ; 
the art of measuring three corners or angles. This mode 
of teaching imparts a wonderful facility in the acquisition 
of language, and enables the pupils to trace out all the 
shades of meaning, however variously the words may be 
located or compounded. And it is as applicable to the 
Latin and Greek, as to the Enodish. These three lano^ua- 
ges might, therefore, be advantageously studied together. 
And students would be able to acquire a good knowledge 
of them all, in a much less time than is usually spent in 



304 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

tlie common way, in obtaining a very imperfect knowledge 
of the English alone. 

There is something vague and indistinct in many of the 
definitions contained in our common English dictionaries. 
And Ave presume, that every person who thinks clearly 
and distinct^ upon any particular subject, has often felt a 
difficulty in finding words to convey his ideas exactly as he 
would wish. Perhaps some of the authors of these diction- 
aries may have given such meanings to certain words as 
may have been introduced by mistake, or pedantry, or 
fashion, instead of tracing them to their original roots, and 
thereby ascertaining their true and precise meaning, as 
they ought to have done ; and which will be the only method 
of rendering the English language as correct and exact as 
it might and ought to be, and as, at some future day, may 
perhaps be demanded. Tour committee have no hesitation 
in saying, that a pupil, taught language as above pointed 
out, would be able by the time he shall be sixteen or 
eighteen years of age, to produce a better and more accu- 
rate English Dictionary, than many of those which are at 
present extant. And the more extensive and accurate his 
knowledge of the classics may be, the better he would be 
able to perform this task. But a person entirely unac- 
quainted with those languages, might spend his whole life, 
even if it should be extended to seventy years, without 
being able to accomplish such work. He might copy, it is 
true, but would not possess that knowledge which would 
enable him to determine whether what he might copy 
would be correct or incorrect. 

In the plan of education before us, it is asserted, " that 
the study of the English language is sacrificed to the 
study of the Greek and Latin. Eemove these, and the 
study of the English alone would take their place, and we 



AMEEICAN EDUCATION. 305 

should have a hundred admirable English scholars, where 
we have now ninety-nine neither Greek, Latin nor English, 
and one tolerable good as a classical, but inferior as an 
English scholar.'^ 

This assertion is certainly a very sweeping one, and re- 
quires some examination. Whether this hundred stand to 
represent all classical scholars, or only a certain hundred 
that might be selected, we are left to conjecture. But the 
picture is a sad one, indeed, for there is not one good Eng- 
lish scholar in the whole hundred, and but one tolerable, 
as a classical one. But if they have never studied the Greek 
and Latin, they would all, of course, have been admirable 
English scholars. Here we would inquire, since all of this 
hundred would have been such admirable English scholars 
if they had never meddled with the Greek and Latin, why 
should not all who never studied them, upon the same 
principle, be admirable English scholars too? It is found, 
by calculation, that in the United States there is one per- 
son in every four thousand who is classically educated ; that 
is, who studies Greek and Latin. The proportion is very 
small, so that if that one in each four thousand, actually 
should sacrifice the study of the English to the study of 
the Greek and Latin, there would still be three thousand 
nine hundred and ninety-nine admirable English scholars 
in every four thousand, in consequence of not having been 
prevented by the study of the Greek and Latin. But, so 
far from any thing like this being the case, it will be easy 
to prove, that all the best English scholars are to be found 
amongst those who have studied the Greek and Latin. 

Many excellent writers have appeared, within the last 
century, on the English language. Among these, we 
call to mind the names of Bailey, Johnson, Walker, Jami- 
son, Home Tooke, Tod, Blair, Boothe, Webster, etc., whose 
writings on this subject are considered as standard works. 
26 



306 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

But these authors were all classical scholars. And, there- 
fore, if the above remarks against the classics are correct, 
we ought to find among those who have not studied them, 
a much greater number of able writers on this subject, and 
who also should be much superior. But where shall we 
find them? We fear we shall look in vain. We have 
never seen one, — we have never heard of one, nor have we 
any reason to believe there ever was one. It is true, that 
certain works, yclept English grammars, have made their 
appearance from such a source, and from men who must 
have believed themselves to have been born grammarians, 
as they had never become so by study. Such grammars 
have done much mischief. They have caused an immense 
waste of time, — they have made pupils believe themselves 
to be good grammarians, when, in fact, they had acquired 
no valuable knowledge at all. Such grammars may be 
called productive, if you please. Bat productive of what ? 
We answer, of confusion, of pedantry, and the perpetuation 
of ignorance. Some of these grammars have been cried 
up as the wonders of the world, and have been puffed and 
blown, and printed and reprinted, until the}^ were almost 
as numerous as the sands upon the sea shore. And they 
have been scattered from the Atlantic to the Lakes, and 
from the Penobscot to the Sabine. But, happily for the 
community, they are now rapidly sinking into neglect and 
oblivion. So that the great noise they have made, com- 
pared with their present insignificance, can not but forcibly 
call to mind the keen satire of Horace. — ^^ Monies jpartu- 
riunt, nasciPar ridiculus musJ' 

If it can be proved, as we have asserted above, that all 
the standard works, on the English language, are the pro- 
ductions of classical scholars, without even one instance to 
the contrary, it will show incontestably we think, that the 
study of Greek and Latin can not be the true reason that 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 307 

there are so few good English scholars. And this circum- 
stance may prove still further, since none but classical 
scholars have ever been able to produce a standard work 
on the English language, that they must have obtained 
through the medium of the classics, the knowledge, dis- 
crimination, or ability, which has enabled them to doit. 

From all these considerations then, it is plain, that there 
must be some other reason, why there are so few good Eng- 
lish scholars. It is possible, that there may be some good 
classical scholars, who are not very good in the English, 
but they might have been, and would have been, if they 
had brought down into English the general principles of 
language and the true meaning and construction of words, 
which they had obtained from the classics. We shall now 
proceed to show the true and real reason, why there are so 
few good scholars in English ; and it is the same reason 
that must be given, why there are so few good scholars in any 
thing — which is nothing more nor less than this, that such 
is the state of society generally, and such the state of 
families and schools, that children and young persons, 
with the exception of here and there one, do not, and- will 
not, pay that attention to study, that is requisite in order 
to acquire even a tolerable education : much less will they 
adopt that energetic and persevering course, by which 
only, they could become established in regular and system- 
atic habits of study ; habits, without which it is in vain to 
expect good scholars in English or any thing else. 

Let us for a moment look back to the days of infancy, 
for it is there that the foundation is laid for future excel- 
lence or future degradation, in almost every member of 
the human family. As soon as children begin to walk and 
talk, they begin to form habits, and habits that will proba- 
bly remain through life. If they are habits of attention 
and industry, the possessor will, extraordinaries excepted, 



308 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

arrive to a high degree of excellence, in whatever situation 
he may be placed. But if they are habits of idleness, of 
inattention, of folly or vice, he will never excel in any 
thing, that is great or good. Intelligent and conscientious 
teachers see, and feel, and lament this evil. But they 
know full well by experience, that after these idle habits 
are once firmly established, it would require a power, far 
superior to that of man, to subdue or remove them. These 
habits are generally commenced at home, and are afterward 
increased and confirmed in school. And this confirmation 
must inevitably take place in every school where the teach- 
er does not know and feel the importance of studious habits, 
or where he is so overpowered by numbers that none can 
receive proper attention. Here then is the root of the evil ; 
it consists in these idle habits. And these are found in all 
our literary institutions. They exert their baleful influ- 
ence in our primary and common schools — whether public 
or private — in our high schools — our Academies, and in our 
Colleges and Universities. They j^ervade the whole, they 
paralyze the whole. By far the greatest portion of the ad- 
vantages that might be derived through these institutions, 
is lost — utterly lost, or rather not attained ; and all this, in 
consequence of these idle habits. 

If we compare the idle with the industrious pupil, we 
shall find that the difference in their improvement must be 
very great. The former loves any thing better than his 
book — his mind is continually flying from trifle to trifle — 
he is one moment engaged in play — the next in mischief. 
When he looks at his lesson at all, it is from compulsion — 
he neither loves it, nor understands it — nor does he even try 
to understand it. If he can contrive any excuse to escape 
the hour of recitation, he is sure to do it, and if this can 
not be done, he will endeavor by the assistance of some of 



AMBEICAN EDUCATION. 309 

his class-mates, to prevent liis ignorance and idleness from 
being discovered. Not so with the industrious pupil. He 
loves his study and pursues it with delight — it is for the 
time being, the great absorbing object of his attention — 
and compared with which all others are subordinate or of 
no consideration. In the time of study no amusement, play, 
or trifles can attract his attention — he sees them not — he 
hears them not. He understands what he reads, and there- 
fore he studies with pleasure, and thus the path of science 
becomes plain and pleasant before him. He delights to 
have the time of recitation arrive, for he is sure to obtain 
some valuable information. And he is every day adding 
something to his previous stock of knowledge. When he 
studies, he does it not as a task, or by halves, but brings 
all the powers and energies of his mind into use and ope- 
ration. We know that some may object to this remark, 
and say that the health of the pupil would be injured, if 
not destroyed, by such applicatiom. We admit the possi- 
bility, but deny it as a necessary consequence, and feel free 
to assert, that whenever it happens, it is always the effect 
of imprudence. Let the pupil have his regular times for 
rest — for meals — and for exercise or diversion, and there 
is not the least danger of injuring his health, by study. 
If the farmer or mechanic should labor incessantly, and 
have no regularity in meals or rest, his health, like that 
of imprudent scholars, would be injured or destroyed, and 
the reason also, would be the same. 

It must be easy to perceive, that there can be no similar- 
ity in the acquirements of the two pupils above described : 
and it must be equally easy to perceive, that however great 
the exertions may be, which shall be made in the cause of 
universal education, that they must be very limited in their 
operations, unless these idle habits can be prevented or 



310 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

removed. Here then is a work to be done, that will require 
the wisdom and united exertions of parents and teachers, 
and all the friends of education. It will indeed be a task. 
It will be cleansing the xVugean stable over again — and 
will perhaps call for some literary and political Hercules, 
who can turn the strong current, not of the river Alpheus, 
but of public feeling and public sentiment, in favor of uni- 
versal education ; and this to such a degree, as will sweep 
away every impediment and prevent further accumulation. 
When all this shall be done, and an efficient mode of 
instruction superadded, a thorough and extensive education 
«<an be easily obtained, and the number who shall obtain it, 
will continually increase until it shall become universal. 
Years, that would once have been lost or worse than 
lost, will then be saved and turned to the best account. 
All then will have time enough to obtain an education, to 
any extent that may be desired. Then if you wish your 
children to acquire a perfect knowledge of the classics and 
mathematics, there will be abundant opportunity. After 
which, if you wish them to possess every kind of informa- 
tion, recommended in the plan of American education 
before us, it can be easily accomplished, and in one third 

OF THE TIME, IN CONSEQUENCE OF THIS PREVIOUS KNOWLEDGE, 
AND REGULAR HABITS OF STUDY. 

Your committee do not feel at liberty to pass unnoticed 
the orthography of the work which you have submitted for 
our consideration. It is true, that the writer has not in 
his oration, proposed it as a part of his system, yet he has 
set the example, by adopting it himself in all his late writ- 
ings, as far as our knowledge extends. In a republican 
country like this, if one has a right to alter or change the 
common orthography, all others most certainly must have 
the same right, and the consequence would be, that the 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 311 

modes of spelling would be as various as the modes of pro- 
nunciation. For no division of the United States would 
reject their own, to adopt those of any other. Similar 
attempts have been made before, and in every instance 
have failed. And this plan, to say the most, has no higher 
claims to public attention, than any of those which have 
preceded it, and we trust it would be as difficult to intro- 
duce it into use, as it would be improper and impolitic. At 
present, however different the pronunciation in different 
places throughout the Union may be, yet they all agree in 
orthography, and therefore, when they express themselves 
on paper, the language of all is the same. But should a 
change take place in this respect, all uniformity in our 
language would soon be lost. The eastern, middle and south- 
ern States, would each, in a short time, have a language of 
its own, and the western would have a miserable mixture of 
the three. Nor would this finish the picture. For every 
city or village, having any peculiarities of dialect, might 
wish to perpetuate them, by establishing a system of 
orthography entirely its own. Thus in a few years, our 
beautiful language might be reduced to utter confusion 
and unintelligible jargon. And it would soon require but 
little help from the imagination, to believe ourselves trans- 
ported to the plains of Shinar, and witnessing all the con- 
fusion of tongues, so forcibly described by the sacred 
historian, the example of which we had seen proper to 
adopt. 

Your committee will now conclude by merely observing, 
that they can not discover any thing in the system before 
us, that can possibly produce any important change for the 
better. There is nothing in it which can remedy the evils 
that we have pointed out above. Therefore, the state of 
education, with some little and unimportant variations, would 



312 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

remain much the same, that it is at the present time. The 
idle pupil, that now wastes his time upon the Greek, the 
Latin and the mathematics, would he the same idle pupil 
still, and waste his time upon something else. And as he 
is now neither a Greek, nor a Latin, nor an English scholar, 
so neither would he he then. And the present inefficient 
modes of instruction would produce no better effect in the 
studies herein proposed, than in those which have been 
heretofore adopted. 



DISCOURSE ON THE UTILITY 
OF THE MATHEMATICS, 

BY E. D. MANSE IELD,L.L.D. 



Gentlemen — 

The defense of mathematical studies, at a period of tim.e, 
and in the midst of a generation, in which they have con- 
trihuted so largely to the rapid progress of social improve- 
ment, seems almost a work of supererogation. But, the 
very increase and diffusion of knowledge, apparently so far 
heyond the compass or the wants of single minds, have 
imposed the necessity of selecting topics of education. To 
make that selection, while yet the elements of future char- 
acter are forming on the plains of the west ; to make it 
wisely, adapted to the greatest happiiiess of the greatest num- 
ber of that vast multitude, who — numerous as the sands of 
the sea, shall cover those plains ; is, if I understand it, one 
of the nohlest, and most interesting duties of your 
institution. 

But, to advocate the selection and excellence of one sci- 
ence is not necessarily to oppose another. To the scholar 
and lover of knowledge, the sciences are a harmonious 
brotherhood, a golden circle, which he would fracture with 
scarcely less reluctance, than he would pluck from the heav- 
enly system one of its glorious planets ; he may look upon 
another with a longer and steadier gaze, or, to him another 
27 (318) 



314 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

light may be purer and brighter ; but he will recollect, that 
the illumination of the mind, like that of the firmament, is 
made up of mamj lights, each shining in its own sphere, 
and each, as it rolls on, casting its rays over that intellect- 
ual pathway, in which he moves to his immortal destiny. 

1 discard therefore, as selfish in the extreme, that nar- 
row principle, which would look down upon any branch of 
human knowledge as useless or improper, however widely 
they may differ in relative value. Some topics of study 
seem to have no object but the occupation and exercise, 
whether salutary or not, of the mental faculties : while 
others do not assert a principle, or move a step, without 
contributing to the welfare and improvement of the human 
family. 

Mathematics belong to the last class, and have at all 
times, constituted a portion of a liberal education. Indeed, 
arithmetic, a very important branch of mathematics, is so 
necessary to the business calculations of the world, as never 
to be omitted in any course of instruction, however slight. 
This, therefore, no theorist, wild as he may be, will ever 
neglect. But all the elementary parts of mathematics are 
equally useful, as a means of education, though not as uni- 
versally necessary to the wants of mankind. And I lay it 
down as a fundamental principle, that this science is so ac- 
cessory to the received methods of human reasoning, is the 
foundation of so many arts and sciences, and so interwoven 
with the various operations of society, that its study can not 
be wholly omitted in the schools, without destroying nearly 
all that is solid and valuable in education. 

What are the objects of education? I suppose them to 
be two-fold. First — the discipline of the mind, moral and 
intellectual. Second — the attainment of such knowledge 
as may be of practical use in after life. 

To ascertain the real value of mathematics, as a means 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 315 

of education in the west, we must compare their use with 
both these objects, and then examine them with reference 
to the destiny and improvement of the western people. 

Mathematics, in its extended sense, comprehends more 
than that, of which w^e now speak. It is bothpwre and ap- 
2?Ued. Pure, as respects its elementary branches, algebra, 
geometry, etc.; applied, as regards those sciences, mechan- 
ical philosophy, astronomy, and others dependent upon the 
former. The pure mathematics, are commonly understood 
by that term, and in this sense I now understand it. 

To improve the reason, as well as the heart, is the pecu- 
liar care of that branch of education whose object is the dis- 
cipline of the mind. To do this, indeed, and to secure the 
ultimate object of that improvement, happiness, was the 
end of those various systems of philosophy, which under 
glorious names, and beautiful forms, have from time to 
time, fastened the attention of mankind. But those sys- 
tems have successively sunk ; the reason of verbal philoso- 
phy has crumbled to pieces, while that of demonstration, 
based upon experiment, has strengthened and increased; 
and with it knowledge has enlarged its bounds, as the 
successive circles in the water increase from the center of 
motion. 

To measure the influence of mathematics, as an intellect- 
ual power, in producing these results, would be to analyze 
the whole machinery of civilized society. But, without 
doing that, we may yet go far enough into mental history, 
to prove this science either as a part of education, or of 
knowledge, the most powerful instrument, after the growth 
of true benevolence, in the progressive improvement of the 
human race. 

Mathematical reasoning, as in fact all other, is divided 
into two great and opposite methods of demonstration; the ana- 
lytical and inductive. The one would prove the principles 



816 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

of a machine by taking it to pieces and examining its 
parts ; the other by putting those parts together. At the 
head of one stands algebra, and of the other, geometry. 
Algebra assumes the conditions of a proposition as it is, and 
analyzing it, arrives at its elements. Geometry takes 
those elements and putting them together, step by step, 
deduces a conclusion which can not be resisted. And these 
two methods comprehend, in general, all the varieties of 
demonstration, moral or physical, which human wisdom has 
devised, from the philosophers of the academy to those of 
the institute. Any other than these, appeals not to reason, 
but to the fallible testimony of the senses. In fact, all treat- 
ises upon logic teach nothing, except terms, which may not 
be found in the elementary propositions of geometry. And 
when the youth who in his collegiate course has mastered 
the mathematics, comes at the close of it to peruse some 
book of logic, he smiles with contempt, at this last shade of 
a faded system. What form of syllogism, the sophism ex- 
cepted, has he not found in Euclid? 

The mode of reasoning, and the things reasoned about, 
which give no result but the exactness of truth, claim a 
superiority of this system over every other. Observation 
deceives ; consciousness itself errs ; but demonstration, nev- 
er. This method of investigation, however, though in gen- 
eral applied only to physical objects, may be transferred 
to any upon which the mind can be employed. It was the 
opinion of Mr. Locke, that moral as well as mathematical 
science may be reduced to a demonstration. The improve- 
ments in moral investigation seem fast leading to this re- 
sult, and Mr. Locke, like many other great minds has, I 
believe, published a truth, which posterity will see accom- 
plished, though we may not.''" 

*»See Note A, 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. Slf 

If it be true, then, that mathematics include a perfect s^/s- 
tern of reasoning, whose premises are self-evident, and whose 
conclusions are irresistible, ca7i there be any branch of 
science or knowledge better adapted to the discipline and 
improvement of the understanding ? It is in this capacity, 
as a strong and natural adjunct and instrument of reason, 
that this science becomes the fit subject of education, with 
all conditions of society, whatever may be their ultimate 
pursuits. Most sciences, as indeed most branches of knowl- 
edge, address themselves to some particular tastes, or sub- 
sequent avocations, but this, while it is before all, as a use- 
ful attainment, especially adapts itself to the cultivation 
and improvement of the thinking faculty, alike necessary 
to all who would be governed by reason, or live for useful- 
ness. 

But, by teaching geometry first,''' and algebra subse- 
quently, an inversion of the usual order, these sciences 
present the very method by which the human mind, in its 
progress from childhood to age, developes its faculties. 
What first meets the observation of a child ? Upon what 
are his earliest investigations employed ? Next to color, 
which exists only to the sight, figure, extension, dimen- 
sion, are the first objects which he meets, and the first 
which he examines. He ascertains and acknowledges their 
existence ; then he perceives plurality and begins to enumer- 
ate ; finally he begins to draw conclusions from the parts to 
the whole, and makes a law from the individuals to the 
species. Thus he has obtained figure, extension, dimen- 
sion, enumeration, and generalization. This is the teach- 
ing of nature, and hence, when this process becomes embod- 
ied in a perfect system, as it is in geometry, that system be- 
comes the easiest and most natural means of strengthening 

«NoteB. 



318 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

the mind, in its early progress through the fields of knowl- 
edge. Long after the child has thus begun to generalize 
and deduce laws, he notices objects and events, whose 
exterior relations afford him no conclusion upon the subject 
of his contemplation. Machinery is in motion, effects are 
produced. He is surprised, examines and inquires. Anal- 
ysis is begun and he reasons backward from effect to cause. 
TMs is algebra, the metaphysics of mathematics, and 
the second step in the order of nature : and through all its 
varieties, from arithmetic to the integral calculus, it furn- 
ishes a grand armory of weapons for acute philosophical 
investigation. But algebra advances one step further ; by 
its peculiar notation it exercises, in the highest degree, the 
faculty of abstraction, which, whether morally or intellec- 
tually considered, is always connected with the loftiest 
efforts of the mind. Thus, this science when taught sub- 
sequently to geometry, comes in to assist the faculties in 
their progress to the ultimate stages of reasoning : and 
the more these analytical processions are cultivated, the 
more the mind looks in upon itself, estimates justly and 
directs rightly those vast powers which are to buoy it up 
in an eternity of future being. 

The minds of nations, as well as of individuals have 
pursued the same order ; generations have their infancy 
and age ; and the great public mind of the world has culti- 
vated its understanding, and aggregated its knowledge, by 
the same processes which are natural and necessary to 
individuals. Thus the philosophers of ancient Greece per- 
fected j:>?am geometry, and Euclid is still a text-book in 
modern schools."' But not so with analysis ; the Greeks 
knew not the numerals,! and their whole arithmetic was 
exceedingly imperfect; while in algebra, they were but 

»See Note C. fNote D. 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 319 

beginners, having scarcely advanced beyond equations of 
the first or simplest order. The invention of numerals ;'^' 
the algebraic notation ; the solution of equations of the 
higher order ; the invention and use of logarithms f ; and 
finally the integral calculus, were reserved for that period 
in the progress of knowledge, when the human mind at 
once overthrew the Aristotelian philosophy and substituted 
that of reason and experiment. And it is not unworthy 
of remark that the disappearance of the verbal school was 
coeval with the advance of analysis. A mathematician, 
Descartesjjwhile with one hand he overthrew the verbiage 
of the ancient metaphysics, with the other improved the 
analysis of algebra. || 

We thus see, that mathematical reasoning conforms 
itself step by step, to the order of nature, and that the his- 
tory of matlmnatics is, in fact, the history of human VU" 
provement. 

But the use of this science, as a discipline of the mind, 
derives a strong practical argument from a fact, which 
hiography spreads before us, — that aside from the realms 
of fiction and fancy, almost every great mind which has 
exercised j^oiver over human affairs, whether for good or 
for evil^ has been aided and strengthened by the study of 
mathematics. They have pursued it not merely as a task 
prescribed by the routine of education, but resorted to it, 
at subsequent periods, as a great mental arsenal, with 
whose keen and pow^erful weapons they were to subdue to 
their purposes the will and the resources of others. 

Let us take a few examples from modern liistory, recor- 
ded as beacon lights in the progress of mind. 

Heroes and statesmen, those brilliant points in the eye 
of fame, have not disdained, but profited largely, by 

oNoteE. tNoteF, J Note G. HNote H. 



320 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

mathematical studies. Peter the Great;-' who, whether we 
contemplate his private or puhlic character, or the results 
of that character in the subsequent progress of his empire, 
was a sublime anomaly in the race of monarchs, owed his 
early education to a diplomatist, a mathematician, and his 
mother. His subsequent acquisitions in naval architecture 
and in various branches of mechanics, were such as could 
only have been made by the aid of mathematics. 

Napoleon, in whom intellectual power was the founda- 
tion of greatness, w^as all his life an enthusiast in this 
science ; in the school of Brienne ho pursued it with youth- 
ful ardor ; it was the subject of his midnight studies and 
the element of his unsurpassed success. Jefferson, the 
statesman and philosopher, was so much an adept in math- 
ematics, that he drew from private life to public station, a 
distinguished mathematician, from the perusal of his works 
alone ; and is it a small honor to the memory of the illus- 
trious dead to say that he and Clinton, likewise the friend 
of letters and science, contributed more to their improve- 
ment and encouragement, than all the other statesmen of 
our country united ? 

If we pass to theologians, we find Barrow, whom the 
witty Charles II. called an unfair preacher, because he 
so exhausted the subject, as left nothing for others to say, 
a mathematician second only to Newton. 

In our own country, Dwight, whose name and influence 
will be transmitted through many generations, was several 
years both a student and instructor of mathematics. 

There are few greater names in medicine than 
Boerhaave,f yet so convinced was he of the necessity of 
mathematical learning, that in the university he pursued 
it with assiduity, and in his later years, with still greater 

** Art. Peter the Great. Encyclopedia AmericaTia. jSee Note L 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 321 

industry. He went further, and recommended the appli- 
cation of mechanical principles to practical anatomy — of 
mathematical reasoning to the investigation of diseases. 

One of the greatest of England's lawyers — Erskine, I 
believe — carried Euclid in his pocket, and gave as a reason, 
that it was the best book of logic, and therefore the best 
adapted to his profession, of any he had ever met with. 
And it is due to that profession, wlio move in the advance 
guard of nations, and are ^uise, at least in the wisdom of 
this world, to say that the greatest of its number from Bacon 
and Hale, to Brougham and Parsons, have laid the founda- 
tions of their education deep in the mathematics. The chan- 
cellor of England is said, even now, to be a student of this 
profound science. And in what other school could those illus- 
trious minds have acquired that clearness of method, and 
strength of illustration, which make their very statements 
arguments, and their conclusions, conviction. These were 
practical men, whenever left the substance before them, like 
the dog in the fable, for the shadows of imagination. 

If we take examples from the lives of those who have 
improved the world by mechanical ingenuity, we shall find 
them not less striking. Eulton received a common 
English education, but subsequently studied the arts and 
sciences in England, and before the invention of the steam- 
boat, acquired the higher mathematics at Paris. 

Whitney,* in his early youth, except his great mechan- 
ical propensity, had no predilection for any study but 
arithmetic ; and afterwards, in college, preferred the math- 
ematics to other pursuits. And his biographer remarks, 
that he was a distinguished example of the beneficial 
effect of a liberal education upon a practical man, as well 

*Llfe of Whitney, by Professor Olmstead. Silliman's Journal. 



322 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

in respect to the economy of "business, as in tlie triumplis of 
mechanical skill. 

And these were men,* whose minds were strengthened by 
mathematical studies. They were mighty men — the one 
covered the waters of the earth with the moving mon- 
uments of science, and the other added forty millions 
annually to the resources of his native land ; and both did 
more for the physical comfort and improvement of the 
world, than all their generation beside. 

The examples I have given, are none of them drawn 
from the ranks of professed mathematicians. These men 
studied other sciences, and followed other pursuits : but they 
resorted to the mathematics as an intellectual instrument^ 
as well as a useful attainment ; they used it as an element 
of power ; they acquired power ; and they have poured its 
influence, for good or evil, for the present and the future, 
through all the mass of human kind. 

The biographical facts to which I have alluded, arise 
from fixed principles of mind. A great mind influences 
others, so far as intellect is concerned, by the superior 
rapidity and certainty, almost amounting to prophecy, with 
which it arrives at results. And it obtains those results, 
by assembling the facts, that is the elements of the ques- 
tion, combining them and deducing a conclusion. Now, 
these are the very faculties, comparison, combination,! and 
and judgment, which mathematical reasoning quickens 
and invigorates. And it is the exercise of these powers 
by the study of mathematics, which has given superior 
strength to so many minds, over others, who have cultiva- 
ted other faculties. 

It was thus, that Peter the Great compared his barren 

«See Note K. jSee Note L. 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 323 

empire witli the rest of Europe ; assembled the means of 
civilization, and brought his nation from darkness to light. 
It was thus, that Bonaparte comprehended the principles 
of the revolution; combined the resources of his empire 
upon sing]e points ; and crushed nation after nation, till 
physical force accomplished in his overthrow, what the 
genius of Europe could not perform. And it is thus that 
Brougham, in the simple declaration that " the schoolmas- 
ter is abroad," shows the comparison between the modern 
and the ancient world; while he announces to corrupted 
governments and decrepid superstitions, that their scepters 
have departed. 

Thus have history and biography"' confirmed my propo- 
sition. And if, on the one hand, these eyes of wisdom 
exhibit positive examples of those, who by the aid of math- 
ematical reasoning and method have performed their func- 
tions with the power and regularity of planets in their 
course, so also our own observation furnishes negative 
illustrations, in the lives of many, who witJiouf that aid, but 
with no less genius, have beaten the air with vain efforts, 
till, at last, like shooting stars, they went out forever. f 

I have now endeavored to sliow that the mathematics 
contain a complete system of reasoning ; that as such, they 
conform to the order of nature in the development of the 
faculties, individual and national ; that their progress is 
consistent with the history of human improvement ; and 
that they have successfully assisted in the cultivation of 
the greatest minds. 

Now if these propositions be h'lie, I think it irresistibly 
follows, that they present the best known means of 
strengthening the intellect ; of disciplining the faculties ; 

*^See Note L. t^ote M. 



324 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

of cultivating the thinking principle, and in one word, of 
improving the human tinder standing. 

Second. The second great object of intellectual educa- 
tion, is the attainment of such 2?ractical hioioledge as may 
he of use in after life. 

Now, it is clear, that in a general^ not professional 
education, those branches of science which contribute the 
most to others, and which are connected with the most 
numerous pursuits of life, are the most useful attainments. 
And in this point of view, is there any science comparable 
in utility with this ? What sciences not wholly moral, are 
disconnected from it ? Where shall we go and not find its 
principles in active and profitable operation ? 

The connection of mathematics with the arts and sciences 
of civilized life is strikingly illustrated in many of the 
most common occupations of society. Descending from the 
ambitious bights of intellectual renown, let us consider 
the simple operation of house building. How much is it 
indebted for its improvement to practical mathematics ! 
And how clearly and certainly would all the operatives 
connected with it be better qualified for profit and success 
in their vocation, by a knowledge of its elementary princi- 
ples? They have to call into operation at every step, the 
'practice, if not the theory, of three branches of this science : 
practical geometry, the strength and stress of materials, 
and the principles of stone cutting. The very works'"* 
written to instruct the young carpenter in his profession, 
are works upon geometry. And he can not understand 
them, till he understands its principles. It is true, that he 
may plane and square timber without geometry ; that he 
may receive the dimensions of the rafters, the beams, and 

'•'Nicholson's Operative Mechanic. Carpenter's Guide. 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 325 

girders of the roof from the master builder, and make them 
all fit ; the master builder may himself have received the 
practical rule without a knowledge of its principles ; yet, 
can there be a doubt, that they would both have worked 
with more economy and accuracy, if they had understood 
the common properties of a right angled triangle.^ And 
when they advance to the more difficult cases of spiral 
stairways, and vaulted roofs, it is easy to see that an igno- 
rance of principle may lead both to error and waste. The 
difficulty in positive rules prepared for uneducated men, is, 
that they can never bend to circumstances. And the work- 
men go on in a fixed track, in cases where they might 
have changed it without a variation of principle, but with 
the greatest economy of time and money. The calculation 
of the strength and stress of timber, though very simple 
in itself, is notwithstanding, an analytical problem, which 
one unacquainted with the principles of algebra could not 
solve ; yet is it every where important that it should be 
properly determined. Very recently the roof of a large 
cathedral in England, which was supposed to be a model 
of architecture, fell by its own weight, destroying in" a 
moment the result of a great expenditure of time and 
money ; a fact, which could never have occurred, had the 
architect resolved a practical problem in the strength of 
materials. In the construction of groined arches, whether 
for roofs, door-ways, vaults, or bridges, the principles of 
descriptive geometry are equally applicable and necessary. 
The catenary and elliptical curves, which are their best 
form, can not be understood without the higher geometry. 
The arch can not be built, without the greatest extrav- 
agance in the use of materials, unless the precise form 
of every stone is known before it is cut from the rock. 
Such was the fact in some of the finest specimens of modern 
architecture ; and such also was the case in the building 



326 ox THE MATHEMATICS. 

of Solomon s Temple ; for it is recorded in the book of 
Kings,* that *' the house when it was building, was built 
of stone made ready before it was brought thither ; so that 
there was neither hammer nor axe, nor any tool of iron, 
heard in the house, while it was building.'^ And this fact 
also corroborates a former position, that geometry long "pre- 
ceded analysis. 

If the quantity of timber, stone, and other material, 
wasted in building, from the want of a very little knowl- 
edge of mathematics, could be calculated, I *have little 
doubt its price would educate all the young mechanics of 
the land. Science is economical. It repays the people a 
hundred fold for what is expended in its cultivation. 

Let us take another example, in the case of surveying. 
Every body knows, that carrying the chain and compass, 
and blazing trees, is no very difficult operation. Yet, of 
what use would it be, if there was no mathematical knowl- 
edge to calculate the results ? The surveyor himself must 
have at least some knowledge of trigonometry. And is it 
not obvious, that every chainman in the forest would per- 
form his duty better, if he were acquainted with the object 
and principles of the business in which he is engaged? 
He would then know where and hoiu to apply his labor to 
the best advantage. But in the beautiful survey of this 
north-western territory, mathematics has exercised a still 
higher faculty. All the section lines are based upon 
meridian lines, and these meridian lines were fixed by the 
nicest astronomical calculations, while yet the Indian had 
not learned the mastery of the pale face, and civilization 
announced itself only in the triumph of its proudest 
science ! 

In Hydraulics, we find the principles of mathematics 



« 1 Kings, 6 c. 7 V. 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 327 

equally necessary. Here all the calculations of the veloc- 
ity, power, and quantity of moving fluids depends upon 
these principles. How can a millwright be master of his 
business without understanding them? The very shape 
of the cogs in his wheels are determined by them. Their 
form is that of the cycloid ; a curve generated by a fixed 
point in the circumference of a circle revolving in a right 
line ; and he must understand that curve, or he can never 
judge whether his wheels are fit for use. And lioiv is he 
to ascertain the quantity of water necessary to move them ? 
And how is he to ascertain the quantity discharged? If he will 
turn to a practical treatise upon mills, he will readily find 
a rule for it, but one which neither improves his understand- 
ing, nor his pocket. If, however, he would study a few of 
the laws of forces, of descending bodies, and moving fluids, 
he could then make a rule for himself, and could adapt it to 
all the changing circumstances of locality and power. 

In the construction of canals, rail-roads, bridges, and in 
all the operations of civil engineering, mathematics are 
the essential element. In addition to algebra and geom- 
etry, trigonometry, and the conic sections find full employ- 
ment. Mountains and valleys are to be reduced to a level ; 
rivers turned from their channels ; and all to be done with 
a certainty and economy, which nothing but the calculation 
and reasoning of mathematics can effect. And when the 
beautiful and grand result is obtained; when the high 
hills are brought down, and space traversed with the speed 
of the winds; when the people and the products of the 
most distant nations meet together, w^ith the ease and safety 
of near neighbors ; when knowledge is borne over the earth 
by the chariot-wheels of all conquering science ; when 
civilization and Christianity herself look to these results, 
as their kind beneficent aids ; shall we not enquire by what 
means they were accomplished? Shall we learn nothing 



328 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

from the principles by which this vast machinery is moved ? 
Or shall education neglect them, when she is gathering the 
elements of a great and useful mind ? Of the millions 
who rejoice and wonder and admire over these achieve- 
ments, few are either taught, or seek to know the means 
by which they are produced. Genius — cries the assembled 
multitude — genius is great and glorious. Yes — genius is 
indeed great, the admirable work of a perfect being. Yet 
genius unaided has done none of these things : but, with 
industry and vigilance, she has gathered the aggregate 
wisdom of uncounted ages ; she has called arithmetic from 
the land of Chaldea ; geometry from the plains of ancient 
Greece ; logarithms from the hills of modern Scotland ; and 
from the darkness of deep antiquity, as well as from the 
brightness of the fresh and living present, she brings the 
treasures of science to aid her in blessing mankind. 

The connections of mathematics with the arts, sciences 
and employments of civilized society are far too numerous 
for reference here. Those I have selected are cases of 
ready and familiar observation. And if they enter thus 
into the accustomed walks of life, still more do they into 
those higher and nobler studies, whose object is to develop 
the laws and structure of the universe. Man may con- 
struct his works by irregular and uncertain rules; but, 
God has made an unerring law for his whole creation, and 
made it too, in respect to the physical system, upon princi- 
ples, which, as far as we now know, can never be understood, 
without the aid of mathematics. 

Let us suppose a youth who despises, as many do, these 
cold and passionless abstractions. Yet he is intellectual ; 
he loves knowledge ; he would explore nature, and know 
the reason of things ; but he would do it, without aid from 
this rigid, syllogistic ^ measuring y calculating science. He 
seeks indeed, no " royal road to geometry,'' but, he seeks 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 329 

one not less difficult to find, in which geometry is not 
needed. 

He begins with the mechanical powers. He takes the 
lever, and readily understands that a weight will move it. 
But the principle upon which different weights at different 
distances move it he is forbidden to knov/ ; for tJiei/ depend 
upon ratios and j^^'oportions. He passes to the inclined 
plane ; but quits it in disgust, when he finds its action 
depends upon the relations of angles and triangles. The 
screw is still worse ; and when he comes to the wheel and 
axle, he gives them up forever ; they are cdl matheynatical. 

He would investigate the laws of falling bodies, and 
moving fluids, and would know why their motion is accel- 
erated at different periods, and upon what their momen- 
tum depends. But, roots and squares, lines, angles and 
curves, float before him in the mazy dance of a disturbed 
intellect. The very first proposition is a mystery: and he 
soon discovers that mechanical philosophy is little better 
than mathematics itself. 

But he still has his senses; he will, at least, not be 
indebted to diagrams and equations for their enjoyment". 
He gazes with admiration upon the phenomena of light ; 
the many colored rainbow upon the bosom of the clouds ; 
the clouds themselves reflected with all their changing 
shades from the surface of the quiet waters. Whence 
comes this beautiful imagery ? He investigates and finds 
that every hue in the rainbow is made by a different 
angle of refraction ; and that each ray reflected from the 
mirror, has its angle of incidence equal to its angle of 
reflection ; and as he pursues the subject further, in the 
construction of lenses and telescopes, the whole family of 
triangles, ratios, proportions and conclusions arise to alarm 
his excited vision. 

He turns to the heavens, and is charmed with the shininff 
28 



830 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

hosts, moving in solemn procession "through the halls of 
the sky/^ each star, as it rises and sets marking time on 
the records of nature. He would know the structure of 
this beautiful system, and search out, if possible, the laws 
which regulate those distant lights. But astronomy for- 
ever banishes him from her presence ; she will have none 
near her to whom mathematics i? not a familiar friend. 
What can 7ie know of her parallaxes, anomalies, and pre- 
cessions, who has never studied the conic sections, or the 
higher orders of analysis ? She sends him to some wooden 
orrery, from which he may gather as much knowledge of 
the heavenly bodies as a child does of armies from the 
gilded troopers of the toy shop. 

But if he can have no companionship with optics nor 
astronomy, nor mechanical philosophy, there are sciences, 
he thinks, which have better taste and less austerity of 
manners. He flies to chemistry, and her garments float 
loosely around him. For a while, he goes gloriously on, 
illuminated by the red lights and hhie lights of crucibles 
and retorts. But, soon he comes to compound bodies, to 
the composition of the elements around him, and finds 
them all in fixed relations. He finds that gases and fluids 
will combine with each other, and with solids, only in a 
certain ratio, and that all possible compounds are formed 
by nature in immutable inoportion. Then starts up the 
whole doctrine of chemical equivalents, and mathematics 
a2:ain stares him the face. Aff'riarhted he flies to miner- 
alogy : stones he may pick up, jewels he may draw from 
the bosom of the earth, and be no longer alarmed at the 
stern visage of this terrible science. But, even here he 
is not safe. The first stone that he finds — quartz — contains 
a crystal, and that crystal assumes the dreaded form of 
geometry. Crystallization allures him on ; but, as he 
goes, cubes and hexagons, pyramids and dodecagons arise 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 331 

before him in beautiful array. He would understand more 
about them, but must wait at the portal of the temple, 
till introduced within, by that honored of time and science, 
our friendly Miclid. 

And now, where shall this student of nature without the 
aid of mathematics, go for his knowledge, or his enjoy- 
ments ? Is it to natural history ? The very birds cleave 
the air in the form of the cycloid, and mathematics prove 
it the heM. Their feathers are formed upon calculated 
mechanical principles, the muscles of their frame are 
moved by them; the little bee has constructed his cell in 
the very geometrical figure, and with the precise angles, 
which mathematicians, after ages of investigation, have 
demonstrated to be that which contains the greatest economy 
of space and strength. — Yes ! — he who would shun math- 
ematics must fly the bounds of " flaming space,'' and in the 
realms of chaos, that, 

" dark, 



Illimitable ocean, 



where Milton's Satan wandered from the wrath of heaven, 
he may possibly find some spot visited by no figure of 
geometry, and no harmony of proportion. But nature, 
this beautiful creation of God, has no resting place for him. 
All its construction is mathematical; all its uses reasonable; 
all its ends harmonious. It has no elements mixed with- 
out regulated law ; no broken chord to make a false note in 
the music of the spheres. 

Let us take another student^ with whom mathematics is 
neither despised nor neglected. He sees in it the means 
of ^:>a3i success to others ; he reads in its history tlie p>rO' 
gressof universal improvement; and he believes that what 
has contributed so much to the civilization of the world, 
what is even now contributing so much to all that 



332 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

humanizes society, and what the experience of all man- 
kind has sanctioned, may, perchance, be useful to his own 
intellectual development. He opens a volume of geom- 
etry, and steadily, though not coldly, pursues its abstrac- 
tions from the definition of a rio;ht line, through the 
elegant projjerties of the right angled triangle, the rela- 
tions of similar figures, and the laws of curved surfaces. 
He finds a chain of unhrohen and impregnable reasoning ; 
and is at once possessed of all the knowledge of postulates, 
syllogisms and conclusions, which the most accomplished 
school of rhetoric could have taught him. He looks upon 
society, and wherever he turns, arts, sciences, and their 
results, from carpentry to civil engineering ; from architec- 
ture to hydraulics ; from the ingenious lock upon a canal, 
to the useful mill upon its sides, disclose their operations, 
no longer mysterious to his enlightened understanding. 
Many an interesting repository of knowledge this key has 
opened to his vision, and as he thus walks through the 
vestibule of science, he longs to penetrate those deep aisles 
and ascend that magnificent stairway, which leads up to 
the structure of the universe. 

With the properties of the ellipsis, the laws of motion, 
demonstrated by mathematics, and two facts drawn from 
observation, the one that bodies fall towards the earth, and 
the other, the regular motion of the planets, he demon- 
strates beyond the power of refutation, the laws of the 
celestial system. He traces star after star, however eccen- 
tric their course, through the unseen immensity of space, 
and calculates with unfailing certainty the hour of its 
return, after ages have passed away. He does more, he 
weighs matter in the balances of creation, and finds that 
to complete the harmony of the system, a planet is want- 
ing in some distant corner of its wide domain : no mortal 
eye has ever seen it, no tradition tells its existence — yet, 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 333 

with the confidence and zeal of prophecy, he announces that it 
must exist, for deinojistration has proved it. The prediction 
is recorded in the volume of science. Long after, astron- 
omy, by the aid of mathematics, discovers the long lost ten- 
ant of the skies ; and fractured though it be, while its 
members perform their revolution no living soul can be 
permitted to doubt the worth of mathematics, or the powers 
of his own immortal mind. 

And what were the glorious contemplations of that pupil 
of mathematical philosophy, as he passed behind the 
clouds of earth to investigate the machinery of celestial 
spheres! Alone, yet not solitary, amidst the glov/ing 
lights of heaven, he sends his spirit forth through the 
works of God. He has risen by the force of cultivated 
intellect to hights which mortal fancy had never reached. 
He has taken line and figure and measure, and from propo- 
sition to proposition, and from conclusion to conclusion, 
rivetting link after link, he has bound the universe to the 
throne of its creator, by that 

" golden, everlasting chain, 



Whose strong embrace holds heaven and earth and main." 

And is there no moral instruction in this?'--' Does he 
learn no lesson of wisdom '? Do no strong emotions of 
love and gratitude arise towards that being who thus 
delights him with the charms of intellectual enjoyment, 
and blesses hint with the multiplied means of happiness? 
Harder than the adamant of his own reasoning — colder 
than the abstractions in which he is falsely supposed to 
move, must be he who thus conducted by the handmaid of 
the arts and sciences, through whatever humanizes man, 
through whatever is sublime in his progress, to a higher 

« See Note N. 



334 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

state, through all the vast machinery which the Almighty 
has made tributary to his comfort and his happiness, yet 
feels no livelier sentiment of duty toward him ; no kinder 
or more peaceful spirit towards his fellow men. 

We have now traced many of the most useful arts and 
sciences to the knowledge of maiJiemafics ; we have seen 
that it contributes to the most necessary and j^^^^^^i^cal 
operations of society ; and we have further seen that we 
can not understand the luorks of nature, nor comimme ivith 
the Almighty, in the sublimest portion of his creation, ^u^tll^' 
out the aid of this benign and civilizing science. 

3. But if mathematics be a necessary part of education 
in general, there are some reasons why it is 'peculiarly so 
in a well devised system of education in the West, Educa- 
tion -must adapt itself to the ivants of a people. It must 
be that which draws treasures from earth, as well as the 
blessing from heaven. Now after fixing the general sub- 
jects of instruction, the first inquiry is, what will the next 
generation of this country need? How are they to bo 
engaged? What are to be the objects of their business? 
I answer, that aside from the cultivation of Christian benev- 
olence, their pursuits, and the improvements they aim at, 
■will be in those arts and sciences which are "physical. It will 
not be a matter of clioice with them. It arises from the 
necessity of their condition. And if it be so, then is the 
science of which wt are speaking, of all others, the best cal- 
culated for facilitating their progress. Let us glance at the 
existing state of things in the region of the Ohio and the Mis- 
sissippi. We are a young people, a thrifty plant, it is 
true, grafted by knowledge, with the best fruit of the wise 
and ancient world, yet a small plant, scarcely risen above 
the green grass of our beautiful prairies. Our population 
has hardly begun. Here and there you find a mart of 
commerce and civilization. And you read of the million 



ON THE MATHEMATICS. 335 

within the borders of Ohio, as of a vast multitude ; 
yet, within this very State, you may travel a hundred 
miles, with scarcely the perception of cultivation, and when 
you come to take an accurate view of it, you find the forest 
scarcely broken by the dwellings of man. If you pass to 
Indiana, the native of the woods is there to tell you that 
the wilderness has not passed away. On the plains of 
Illinois it is the same ; and if you go beyond the Missis- 
sippi, the traveller may wander five hundred miles within 
an organized territory, without meeting a cabin. Yet this 
is all a region of arable land — rich in the resources of 
nature, yielding whatever adds to physical enjoyment or 
rational contemplation. It will therefore in time be 
populous. It will go on as it has done, to speak mathemat- 
ically, in geometrical progression, doubling from period to 
period. I am no optimist, no gilder of futurity in the 
hues of imagination ; and it requires no aid from fancy, or 
even calculation from arithmetic, to know that the shores 
of the Ohio and the Mississippi will be crowded a century 
or two hence, with a mass of humanity, dense as that which 
looks upon the waters of the Ehine and the Ganges. The 
generations which pass from this to that period, like our 
own, are preparatory. They are to build the physical as 
well as moral temple for the habitation of posterity. And 
where are we ? Standing at the corner stone, laying the 
very foundation. And what shall these intermediate mill- 
ions do? Shall tliey not appeal to the full storehouse of 
nature? And shall they not call science to unlock their 
doors ? They will do so, because— they must The 
resources of the land must be developed, before the mass of 
the people can cultivate the charms of taste, or the refine- 
ments of speculative philosophy. They will first look to 
the products of the soil. They will go to your salt springs 
and bore the earth for that necessarv of life, and thev will 



336 ON THE MATHEMATICS. 

call upon the mechanic for forcing pumps, and lifting 
machinery ; and he will call upon mathematics to aid him 
in economizing time and lahor. They will open your coal 
banks, and look to the mechanic arts to aid them in its 
transportation. And in the mines of iron and lead, they 
-tt'ill need geometry as well as chemistry, to aid them in 
mining and smelting. They will send engineers to con- 
struct vast bridges over those noble streams. They will 
continue to multiply roads, and railways, and canals, till 
tlie whole country is intersected by these grand highways 
of social relationship, and productive industry. And in all 
these operations, mathematics will be the active agent, and 
kind assistant ; and as it helps others, it will help itself to 
increase; still propelling the wheels of knowledge, till 
with the ligJit, they have rolled round the circle of the 
earth. 

I consider it 2:>roved then, — 

First — That mathematics are the most powerful discip- 
line of the mind. 

Second — That in the business of life, they are the most 
useful attainment. 

Third — That, in this western country, there are peculiar 
reasons for their study. 

And from all these, T deduce the conclusion, that there 
could not be a better means of intellectual education. 

I can not quit this place without saying something to 
those who have assumed the profession of a teacher. When 
the philosophers of ancient Greece taught their pupils from 
the portico of the academy, they were instructing teachers^ 
who went forth to increase knowledge among the children 
of men. And when, in after times, on the plains of dis- 
tant Judea, a descended Saviour smiled on fallen man, He 
also instructed teachers, and sent them to the wide world, 
with the words of '* peace and good will to man." These 



OF THE MATHEMATICS. 337 

are your examples. They were the colleges of teachers in 
ancient days. And what is the position and the duties of 
your college? You stand in poetic vision — actors in 
" time's last act, its greatest and its best." AVith the 
gospel in one hand, and the learning of six thousand years 
in the other, you are the blessed instruments of transmit- 
ting them we trust, to a renovated world. 

And who is the teacher? And what is his reward? 
Cicero demanded for his client, the poet Archias, the citizen- 
ship of Eome, not because it was his legally, but because 
he had done that for which the republic owed him everlast- 
ing gratitude. He has given you, said he, these intellec- 
tual gifts, '' wliich nourish youth, delight age, adorn for- 
tune, and soften adversity."* And to do this is the office 
of the teacher. And what is his reward ? If Archias was 
thought worthy the noblest gift of Rome, what shall be 
deemed too much for those who stand, not like him, amidst 
falling governments, and moldering superstitions, but 
here in the freshness of a new creation, with the blended 
lights of nature and revelation beaming around them, are 
vested with the holy duty of bearing the lamps of science 
and salvation to distant ages ? 

The teacher, who instructs us in the reasons of things ; 
who meets us in life's morning-dawn with the earliest ray 
of knowledge ; who pours upon our noon of strength its 
refreshing beams, and who teaches that its decline shall 
melt into the milder "light of the more perfect day." 
The teacher, though no monuments shall be erected to his 
memory, though poetry should not write upon them its 
living numbers, yet will live in the vivid gratitude of pos- 
terity, honored of men ; and when the teacher and the 
taught shall have ascended to the great Instructor of all — 
blest of God. 

« See Note 0. 
29 



isr O T E s 

TO MR. MANSFIELD'S DISCOURSE ON THE MATHEMATICS. 



Note A.— Page 316. 
What is a demonstration but a series of connected truths, •with, a conclusion 
drawn from them. Now, these truths may be derived from any source, 
and may be exhibited in any form, provided the connection is kept up, and 
the conclusion clearly drawn. Mathematics assumes truths drawn 
from the relations of figure aud extension. Natural philosophy, those 
drawn from cxperimeiit. Moral science deduces its conclusions from testi- 
fnony and consciousness. The demonstration in either case is the same. 
But, as the facts of mathematics are at once obvious to the senses and 
incapable of denial, the demonstrations are the most perfect. For this 
very reason, they farnish the best means of studying logic. If a man 
wished to learn the art of engraving, would he go to the worst engra- 
ver in the land ? No — to the best. Then, shall he not learn reasoning 
in its best form? 

Note B.— Page 317. 

This idea is derived from a discourse delivered by Mr. Grund, a teacher 
of mathematics in Boston. 

Note C— Page 318. 
Geometry, like most other sciences, is supposed to have had its origin 
among the Chaldeans, or Egyptians. But however that may have been, 
their knowledge upon the subject must have been slight. For it wa3 
Pythagoras, in the year five hundred and ninety before Christ, who dis- 
covered the fundamental proposition, that the square of the hypothenuse, 
is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides. Euclid 
appeared in the year three hundred B. C. His object was to systematize 
the scattered discoveries in science, and clothe them in the strictest form 
of reasoning; and he did it with such success, that no book of scienoo 



NOTES TO MR. MANSFIELD^S DISCOURSE. 339 

ever attained the duration and celebrity of Euclid's elements. They 
were for many centuries taught exclusively in many schools, and trans- 
lated and commented upon in all languages. Vide BossuVs History of 
Mathematics. 

Note D. — Page 3 IS. 
The Greeks and all other ancient nations used letters and other charac- 
ters for arithmetical operations, but of arithmetic itself they knew very 
little. 

Note E. — Page 319. 

The invention of the numerals is by some attributed to the Hindoos ; 
but this, like many other tremendous drafts drawn upon credulity, by 
the Brahmins and Mandarins of Hindostan and China, is an unproved 
assertioJi. Our numerals were derived directly from the Arabs. They 
were introduced into Europe, about the year nine hundred and sixty, by 
Gerbert, who was Pope Sylvester II. 

Note F.— Page 319. 

It was in the sixteenth century that equations of the higher orders, 
third, fourth, etc. degrees, were solved by Garden Vieta, and others. 
Logarithms were invented by Napier, of Scotland, who was born 1550, 
died 1617. 

Note G. — Page 319. 

Descartes was born 1596 died 1650. He introduced the notation by 
exponents. 

Note H.— Page 319. 

About the year 1684 — 6, the method of fluxions was discovered by" 
Newton and Leibnitz. 

Note I.— Page 320. 

Boerhaave was a great improver of medicine, a learned scholar, and an 
eminent Christian. He was highly skilled in Latin, Greek and Hebrew. 
He was a chemist, a professor, a lecturer in the universities, and a prac- 
titioner to whom patients resorted from all parts of Europe. He studied 
mathematics, con amore, and declared in an oration, delivered before the 
university of Leyden, that as to philosophy, "all the knowledge we have 
is of such qualities alone, as are discoverable by experience, or such as 
may be deduced from them by mathematical reasoning.'' And this is the 
simple truth, known and acknowledged by all improvers of science. 

As a Christian he was pure, active and practical. Once, after fifteen 
hours of exquisite pain, he prayed that God would take his life. This, 
he sincerely regretted, on account of its impatience, and want of conS- 
dence in God. A friend, who was by, consoled Mm by attributing it to 



340 NOTES TO MR. MANSFIELD's DISCOURSE. 

the unavoidable infirmities of human nature. But, he replied, that " he 
that loves God, ought to think nothing desirable, but what is pleasing 
to the Supreme Goodness/^ 

" Thus died Boerhaave, a man formed by nature for great designs, and 
guided by religion in the exertion of his abilities." Vide Johnson's Life 
of Herman Boerhaave. 

Note K.— Page 322. 
I said in the discourse *' aside from the realms of fiction and fancy," 
but mathematics has not always been excluded from them. Where ia 
he, whom the world equals with immortal Homer ? 

Is not each great, each amiable muse 

Of classic ages in thy Milton met? 

A genius universal as his theme ; 

Astonishing, as chaos, as the bloom 

Of blooming Eden fair, as heaven sublime. 

Thomson, 

To show what were the studies of Milton, I make this quotation from 
Bishop Newton's Life of INIilton. 

" Here he resided with his parents for the space of five years, and as 
he himself has informed us, (in his second defense, and the seventh of his 
familiar epistles) read over all the Greek and Latin authors, particularly 
the historians ; but now and then made an excursion to London, some- 
times to buy books, or meet his friends from Cambridge, and at other 
times to learn something new in the mathematics or music, with which he 
was extremely delighted." 

Five years of such studies voluntarily pursued, after the usual course of 
education, — were certainly different vocations from those which engage 
the mass of reformers in learning, — but not more so, than are their 
moderate attainments frcm the splendid results, exhibited in the charac- 
ter and productions of John Milton. From the classic authors he may be 
supposed to have derived that fund of ancient learning, which shines so 
conspicuously in all his works ; from mathematics that strength of logic, 
which made him the best controversialist of his day, and from music, 
that sense of melody, which is essential to the formation of a good poet, 
or good writer. 

Note L.— Page 322. 
The faculty of combination is that of (what is called) genius. Let any 
one examine carefully, the creations of a great poet, as Milton, Shakes- 
peare, Scott ; and the effects of a great military mind as exhibited in the 



NOTES TO MK. MANSFIELD's DISCOURSE. 341 

conduct of Caesar and Bonaparte ; or tlie inventions of great meclianical 
skill, as in Arkwriglit and Whitney; or, the sublime discoveries and 
demonstrations of Newton ; and he will find an instructive volume, 
illustrating this department of intellect. We have not space to enlarge 
upon the subject, but the intelligent inquirer can easily refer to the facts. 
It is suflS:cient to say, that mathematical studies are full of exercise and 
employment for this faculty. 

Second Note L. — Page 323. 
How many men of brilliant faculties fail from instability of charac- 
ter ? «' Unstable as water thou shalt not excel." And what is the cause 
of this instability, but want of balance, as well as strength, in the facul- 
ties ? And what can give this balance and strength so well as mathemat- 
ical investigation ? 

Note M.— Page 323. 
It is certain that too much value can not be placed upon history and 
biography, properly studied. Public history contains the embod- 
ied mass of human experience; private, the means, by which the natural 
faculties and aflfections have been made to produce the practical results 
we see exhibited in the life of an individual. It is, in fact, when philosophi- 
cally written, a picture of education acting upon mind and heart. But, to 
study it properly, books must be written differently from the mass of 
modern history, ^aafws, Robertson's Introduction to C/jcrrZes F., Hallam, 
and similar authors must be the models, instead of the confused and 
uninstructive details of blood and glory, which have so long dazzled the 
eyes of unreflecting historians. 

Note N.— Page 333. 
It has been said " There is no Christianity in mathematics. Intrinsically ^ 
what is there, except the Bible and the renewed heart, which is Chris- 
tian ? The Christian does not hesitate to eat, drink, clothe, sow and 
plant, like other men, without once enquiring whether his food or clo- 
thing be christian. It is enough for him, that he uses them with chris- 
tian ends. It is necessary for a Christian in the fulfillment of his duty, 
to cultivate the energies of both body and mind. He uses food and exer- 
cise, temperate in all things, for the former ; and shall he not use math- 
ematics for the latter ? Is there not too frequently a mistake made in 
distinguishing between means and ends? And do not some persons sup- 
pose that the world is to be christianized by some direct interference of 
Providence, independent of human means ? If the latter are to be used, 
then are the mathematical sciences among the most powerful ever brought 
to bear upon the human mind. They who deny this, know very little 



342 NOTES TO MR. MANSFIELD's DISCOURSE. 

either of the science itself, or of its connection with the civilization and 
consequent moral refinement of the world. How much has modern 
astronomy alone done to exhibit and illustrate the glorious attributes of 
the Creator? How much have the improvements in naval architecture 
done to facilitate the progress of the gospel among pagan nations. Would 
the missionary cross the Pacific in a birch-bark canoe ? How mtichhave 
the improvements, even in the science of war, produced by mathematics, 
done to establish the dominion and consequent influence of Christian 
over uncivilized nations? Look at the British empire in India; a few 
thousands holding sway over a hundred millions ; fifty regular presses, 
established colleges, and schools in every direction ; and the English 
tongue learned by thousands of the natives ! 

Note 0.— Page 337. 

*'At haec studia adolesceetiam alunt, senectutem ohledant, secundas res omant, 
adversis perfngium ac solatium praebent delectant domi, non impendiiim /oris — 
Cicero pro Archias. 

Those who would deny the usefulness of any art or science should 
recollect another passage in the same discourse. " Etenim omnes artes, 
quae ad humanitatem pertinent, habent quodam commune vinculum, et. quasi cog' 
natione quadum inter se continentiire.'^ 



AMERICAN EDUCATION 

BY THOMAS SMITH GRIMKE, L.L.D. 



** The sclioolinaster is abroad." This was the language 
of Mr. Brougliam, in reference to the progress of popular 
improvement in England. If the schoolmaster be abroad 
there, as he certainly is, it would be strange indeed, if he 
were not also abroad in our land of popular institutions. 
Here, the people are all, and every thing is the people's. 
All exists through them and for them. Government, the 
various institutions of society, religious, literary, and benev- 
olent ; all that belongs to arts and arms ; whatever blesses 
our country at home, and sustains her reputation abroad — 
all proceeds from, and is administered for the people. 

The schoolmaster, then, is abroad in our land. AYe re- 
joice at it, as one of the signs of the times. It is, as it 
were, the lifting up of one corner of the curtain of futurity, 
that a glimpse may be caught of the glorious prospects which 
I believe to be now concealed from our view. The school- 
master is one of the chief workmen, I may almost say the 
the principal in preparing for the genius of America, in the 
bright years of that futurity, the most magnificent edifice 
that the mind of a nation ever inhabited. We pause not to 
make good by arguments or proofs, an assertion so grateful 
to our national pride. It would not be difficult to establish 
it on the foundation of facts, and by the most convincing 

moral reasonings, drawn from the experience of the past iu 

(343) 



344 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

all ages and countries, and from tlie actual development of 
society thus far in the United States. But we have other 
objects now in view ; and we therefore trust, for the present 
at least, to the national feelings of the audience, and to their 
aspiration for such a glorious destination hereafter, to bear 
me out in the sentiment I have advanced. 

The schoolmaster is abroad in our land ; but whose school- 
master? He professes to teach the people, and he does 
give instruction to a great many. Still the question recurs, 
whose schoolmaster is he ? In other words, is he the peo- 
ple's schoolmaster? The answer to this most important 
and interesting question does not depend upon the inquiry ; 
" whom does he instruct?" but upon this, ^^luliat does he 
teach?'' The character of the people of each successive 
generation is staked to an incalculable extent, on the capac- 
ity and faithfulness of those instructors. Grant them to 
be under the influence of the most just pride, of a high 
sense of duty, and of anxiety to be useful. Still we ask 
the question, "Are they what they should be?" "Do 
they teach what they ought ?" We fear that both inqui- 
ries must receive a negative reply. 

The schoolmaster who is abroad in our land, is not the 
people's schoolmaster in spirit and in truth, unless he teach 
them what is indispensable to their prosperity, happiness 
and true glory. He must be the christian, the Ameri- 
can SCHOOLMASTER I he must give them a truly Christian and 
American education, to make them what they should he, pecu- 
liarly a Christian and American people. Are these the 
great end and practical operation of the scheme of educa- 
cation now established in our country? We know that 
they profess to have these in view. But while such 
are the ostensible objects, (I speak thus without reproach 
to the purity and sincerity of their founders' motives), are 
these ends attained in any degree, proportioned to the 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 345 

wants of the community, and the demand of the spirit of 
the age in which we live ? I speak boldly, but frankly, 
when I say, that in my opinion the harvest is lamentably 
deficient, both in the quantity and quality. The soil is 
capable of as strong and luxuriant a growth as in any 
other country, ancient or modern ; for who, at least on this 
side the Atlantic, is a believer in the fabulous philosophy 
of Buflbn, that man is degenerated in America. The rain 
and dew, darkness and sunshine, clouds and refreshing gales, 
are bestowed as bountifully here as elsewhere. But neither 
the seed that is sown, nor the mode of tillage that is em- 
ployed, is fitted to accomplish the great objects of a prudent 
farmer : a rich, abundant liarvest, and the ornament of his 
fields whilst in progress, and the source of comfort, happiness, 
and ever increasing prosperity, when gathered. 1 have 
spoken metaphorically ; but I am sure you all comprehend, 
that I mean to express the distinct opinion, and I may add 
the settled conviction, that the great body of the materials 
employed in education in our country, are altogether un- 
suited to furnish lohat I regard as the only legitimate object 
of a system of instruction with us, A christian and Amer- 
ican EDUCATION. Is this important end attained ? I shall 
endeavor to show that it is not, and why it is not : and like- 
wise in what manner only, in my judgment at least, it can 
be attained. 

May I be pardoned, if I turn aside for a few moments, to 
disburden myself of a thought, which finds here its appro- 
priate place. I condemn to a vast extent, all our existing 
schemes. I think them radically defective in elements and 
modes. In one who has spent the last twenty-five years 
at the bar, and has never had any practical knowledge as 
a teacher, except in the instruction of his children, it may 
be deemed presumptuous to set up his speculations, against 
the experience which founded and administers a practical 



346 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

system. I am willing to bear tlie reproach of presumption, 
if it only be admitted that I have no selfish purpose to 
answer, no false pride to gratify ; that I honestly believe 
I am engaged in the discharge of an unwelcome but im- 
portant duty, and that the progress and honor of religion, 
tlie happiness and improvement of our country, are my 
objects. May I also hope that I shall not be rebuked by 
the sentiment, that the course which 1 pursue, calls in 
question the wisdom, virtue and patriotism of the builders 
and supporters of existing schemes. In a country and an 
age like ours, freedom of thought and tlie frank declaration 
of our thoughts on subjects of vital interest to the people, 
are at once the duty and privilege of Christians and Ameri- 
cans. He who believes that he possesses knowledge or 
opinions, which are fitted to save the people, is not a good 
man, or a good citizen, if he withholds them. In such 
case, he must not wait to be called on ; for the chances are, 
that he never will be. He must volunteer his services. If 
they are accepted and acted upon, he has his reward. If 
they are rejected, still he has his reward ; the reward of 
Burke and Chatham, when they pleaded in vain for concili- 
ation with America. Addison has distinguished between 
animadversions on traits of character, and on the individuals 
who possess them. The former are lawful and proper, the 
latter to be censured. May I not equally distinguish 
between the qualities which mark systems of education, and 
those who constructed and administer them ? May I not 
condemn the system ? whilst I admit their talents, and 
virtue, their wisdom, learning and experience. This shall 
be my object, and I trust I shall not fail. 

The present system of education is in literature, precisely 
what the old confederation was in politics, the creature of 
necessity, a temporary expedient fitted to answer the exi- 
gencies of the times which gave it birth, but totally unfitted 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 347 

to meet the demands of the very next generation. The 
spirit of the revolution gave to the government of the old 
confederacy a life and spirit, which were not its own : and 
the immediate influence of English institutions, hahits, sen- 
timents, and instructors, gave to our system of education, 
an efficacy which did not belong to it. The country needed 
a political reformation : and the people demanded a new 
constitution. It is just the same now ; I believe the coun- 
try requires a reform in the scheme of instruction ; and if 
the people have not yet demanded a new constitutio7i in 
education, it is because they are not yet aware of the defi- 
ciencies i)i their old articles of confed.eracy, in the educational 
department. 

This is an age, and ours is a country in which educated 
men are not at liberty to sit down contented ivith things as 
they are. Their plain duty is, to inquire and examine con- 
stantly, are things as they shoidd he ? Their duties are 
active not passive. They are responsible for the progress 
of society in their time : just as the mail-carrier of to-day 
is responsible for custody and condition of the letters, for 
which another was responsible yesterday, and another is to 
be responsible to-morrow. Of all men, parents are the 
most deeply interested in the question, '* Are things as 
they should be in education ?• ' But of all men, teachers 
are under the strongest obligation, by reason of their oppor- 
tunities, station and influence, to examine the question, 
*' Are things as they should be in education ?'' They have 
become the voluntary substitutes for parents: theirs are 
the duties of parents enhanced by their superior means of 
observation and judgment. My object is first to show that 
we have great reason to be dissatisfied with things as they 
are ; and second to point out what they should be in our 
systems of education. 

First. — Of things as they are. I proceed to designate 



348 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

what I regard as the prominent objectionable features of 
our existing systems of instruction. 

1. They are not as they should be, decidedly religious. 
It will be granted, for no one can doubt, much less deny, 
that religion is no part of our plans of daily education. 
The scriptures, as a branch of education, are no where uni- 
formly and steadily taught, as languages and mathematics 
are. If the Bible be used as a school-reading book, or a 
few verses be committed to memory, still it is not made 
the subject of daily instruction. I speak of the fact, that 
the religion of the Bible is not a permanent, substantial 
part of education among us. I am aware that the Bible 
has in some few instances forced its way into a school or 
college ; but to so limited an extent, as to make no change 
in the general character of the system. That system is then 
undoubtedly an unchristian, even it be not an a?i^zchris- 
tian scheme. 

2. The second objectionable feature is, that the existing 
plan is in no proper sense of the word American. It is 
not even English, considering England and America as one, 
in relation to the rest of the world, as having the same 
language and religion, and to a great extent, the same 
civil, political, and social institutions. It is true, you will 
find Morse's or Worcester's or some other American Geogra- 
phy; also some 12 mo. History of the United States, and 
some such work as Pitkin's civil and political History of 
the Union, Eawle on the Constitution, the Federalist, or 
Story on the Constitution, studied in our schools or colleges ; 
but this is actually the whole amount of attention paid to 
subjects lyurely xVmerican. Our own history, biography, 
eloquence, political philosophy, and constitutional law, are 
with the trifling exceptions just mentioned, as little known 
in our systems of education, as in those pursued at Bologna, 
Coimbra, or Salamanca. The question is not now whether 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 849 

it ought to be so ; for I am speaking, under this suhdi vis- 
ion of my subject, of things as they are. It is sufficient 
then for my immediate purpose, that in point of fact our 
system of education taken as a whole, has very little in it 
purely American. I do not scruple therefore to pronounce 
it decidedly z^ti- American, even if it be not a?i^^- American. 
3. The third objectionable feature is, that the great mass 
of the system is not only unchristian and un-American ; 
but it actually has so little either of Christian or American 
qualities in it, that it would suit equally well any other 
form of government, any other state of society, any other 
religion, and any other national literature, regarding Eng- 
lish and American as one. This position is undeniable ; 
because it can not be doubted, that the greater portion 
of time dedicated to a liberal education in this country, 
is devoted to classics and mathematics. If any one doubt, 
let him only examine the course of study in our colleges, 
academies, and principal schools. If the quantity by pages 
merely be considered, if it do not exceed all the other 
studies, at least it equals them. But when it is remem- 
bered that the classics and mathematics require ten times 
as much time, as the same quantity of any other text book, 
whether in mental or moral philosophy, in logic or rhetoric, 
it is plain that I am right in my position, that tlie greater 
'part of our time is spent on these studies. What now is 
the fact as to them ? what is their true character ? As to 
the mathematics, can it be denied that they are just as fit 
a part of education in a despotism, or an aristocracy, as in 
a republic ? Are they not equally applicable to the state 
of society which prevails in Prussia, Switzerland, Spain, or 
Holland, as to that of great Britain or the United States? 
Who can doubt that they suit as well those countries where 
the religion of Fohi, of Brama, or of Mohammed exists, as 
those in which Christianity is the general creed. And as 



350 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

to national literature, have tliey any more connection with 
tliat of England and America, than they have with that of 
Germany, Portugal or Italy ? Let us apply the same test 
to the classics. That they have nothing to do with forms 
of government is manifest. From the classics studied in 
schools and colleges, if we relied on them, we should know 
nothing to any material extent, even of the political insti- 
tutions of Greece and Eome ; much less of those of any 
modern European country ; and still less of our own. Now 
as to state of society. So far as the classics have any rela- 
tion to them, it is plain, that they can only enlighten us as 
to those wild and fickle which existed two thousand years 
ago, under the licentious democracy of Greece, and the com- 
pound of proud and turhulent aristocracy and democracy 
at Eome. AVith regard to religion, that they have nothing 
to do with the Christian, is ohvious to every one, for they 
have just as little connection witli our faith, as with that of 
Burmah, Persia or Thibet. Lastly, although it can not he 
said that they have as much to do with Arabic literature, 
(which studiously rejected the classic orators and poets;) 
as with ours, yet they certainly have as intimate a fellow- 
ship with the literature of Spain and Italy, France and 
Germany, as with that of England and America. Confin- 
ing myself therefore to facts, my position appears to me 
amplv sustained. It is then manifest, that mathematical 
and classical studies suit nearly as well all forms of govern- 
ment, states of society, religions, and literatures. The 
little connection, indeed, which they have with religion, is 
apparent from the remark made by Villers, in his work on 
the reformation of Luther, that the Catholics, and especially 
the Jesuits, where so sensible of the absolute necessity of 
excluding the moral and political branches of knowledge, 
which the reformers were reviving, that they bestowed the 
greatest pains on the cultivation and introduction of 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 351 

classical and mathematical studies as the great business of 
education. How little these departments of education have 
to do with forms of government and their administration, 
i^ apparent from the fact, that the principal Greek and 
Latin classics were studied at Eome in the time of Juvenal, 
'and in France under Louis XIV., and Napoleon, with as 
little concern on the part of rulers, as at Geneva, Leyden 
or Oxford. Chateaubriand says in the Preface to his 
"Genius of Christianity," Bonaparte acknowledged that 
his work had contributed more to his fall, than any other 
cause. I am strangely mistaken, if he would not have 
said, had his opinion been asked, that he regarded the 
classics and mathematics, as two of the high priests in that 
temple of French glory, of which he was the giant idol. 
Let me add that the Dolphin editions of the classics were 
prepared by catholic scholars in the age of Louis XIV., for 
the education of the heir apparent to the French throne. 

4. The fourth objectionable feature in our existing 
scheme of education is, that it does not Jill the mind with 
useful and ejitertaining knoivledge. You will observe, I do 
not speak here of discipline of mind. That is a different 
question. As to the mathematics — what knowledge does 
a man derive from them, which he can make use of, or 
to which he refers as valuable and entertainino; informa- 
tion, in after life ? As to valuable knowledge, except the 
first and most simple parts of arithmetic, I feel little 
hesitation and saying, as the result of my experience and 
observation, that the whole body of the pure mathematics is 
ABSOLUTELY USELESS to ninety-nine out of every hundred 
who study them. Now, as to entertainment. Does more 
than one out of every hundred preserve his mathematical 
knowledge ? Chancellor D'Aguesseau, it is said, kept up 
his acquaintance with them, as a recreation from profes- 
sional pursuits. But where you find one such instance, you 



352 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

will meet with hundreds, who never found any entertain- 
ment in them : and who would think you were bantering, 
if you recommended geometry, and algebra and conic sec- 
tions, by way of relaxation and entertainment, in the 
intervals of professional pursuits. I must say then, I take 
the fact to be undeniable, that the pure mathematics leave 
neither valuable nor entertaining knowledge in the 
memory. I do not of course include natural philosophy ; 
because I admit that it does furnish both useful and 
entertaining information. Indeed if I could execute my 
scheme, I would banish to-morrow, with the single excep- 
tion of common arithmetic, the whole body of pure math- 
ematics out of our system. There could be no difficulty in 
fillina: the vacuum. Let it not be said that a knowledo-e 
of the pure mathematics is necessary to a right understand- 
ing of the mixed. This is true with regard to professors, 
and to those who desire to comprehend and preserve the 
profound science of the subject. To them it is indispensa- 
ble ; but it is not indispensaUe to those, who merely desire 
a knowledge of the facts, and an understanding of the 
principles, without being able to demonstrate a single one. 
Thus, for example, all can understand perfectly the law of 
gravitation, the centripetal and centrifugal force, the 
Newtonian theory of the tides, &c., &c., without any 
acquaintance with the reasonings on the subject, drawn 
from the exact sciences. These reasonings are indispensa- 
ble to one out of every hundred: They are useless to the 
ninety-nine. 

Let us now apply the same test of useful and entertain- 
ing knowledge to the classics. I begin by the remark, that 
they have certainly the advantage of the mathematics : but 
if not more than one out of every hundred of those who 
study the latter, preserves them, certainly not more than 
one out of every fifty of those who study the former, keeps 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 353 

up his acquaintance witli them. How seldom arc cither 
the classics or mathematics the siihject of conversation ! 
Who carries the classics as a traveling companion, bj land 
or by sea? Ten thousand pockets might he picked with- 
out finding a dozen classics. As many mantle-pieces and 
and study-tables might be searched, and the result would 
be much the same. The generality of those who devoted 
ten and twelve years to their study, have abandoned them 
for life, the instant they became their own masters : and 
they have never resumed them since. Their banishment 
from the conversation and study of educated men, in their 
mature years, to so great an extent, is, in my opinion, 
of the strongest proofs which can be given, that all these 
men have decided pradiealli/f the question, *' Do the clas- 
sics really contain any considerable amount of valuable and 
interesting knowledge ? 

But we must not stop here. I ask boldly the question, 
•'what is there in the classics, that is really instructive 
and interesting?" I know it is a literary heresy to 
doubt, and still more, to deny this. But I regard not 
such impediments, when truth is my object, and duty my 
standard of the good and useful. What then do the clas- 
sics contain to recommend them in these particulars? 
Shut all your English books, and what would the student 
in your schools and colleges learn of Ancient History? 
The only answer is, he would know little or nothing. For 
example, what would he know of Egyptian, Assyrian, 
Median, Persian and Syrian history? A few scraps from 
Herodotus, Diodorus and Xenophon, are the answer. Ask 
the same question as to Greek history, and if you treble 
the number of extracts, and add Thucydides, Plutarch and 
Poljbius, you have the reply. Now, as to Koman history : 
A few books of Livy, Caesar and Tacitus, with Sallust, are 
the amount of Eoman history, studied by our youth in 
30 



354 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

Latin. Who will venture the opinion, that any but a 
most imperfect knowledge, of Eoman history can be 
obtained from school and college classics ? It is then 
manifest, that the founders and promoters of our scheme 
of education, never could have intended them to teach 
Ancient History. But apart from this class of facts, there 
is nothino; in the Greek and Eonian historians that is 
valuable. The truth is, we derive our acquaintance with 
Ancient History, from Eollin, Mitford and Gillies, from 
Hooke, Ferguson and Gibbon. And who will not coincide, 
that the great majority of classical students acquire a more 
comprehensive and accurate knowledge from those authors : 
that they understand, and remember it better ; and that it 
is a source of greater pleasure to them, that if they had 
spent five years more in studying Greek and Latin histo- 
rians? The same remarks apply, of course, to ancient 
biography. 

With regard to the ancient orators : they certainly are 
not intended t^ teach Ancient History ; for the plainest of 
all reasons ; because they presuppose a knowledge of that 
very history. What other value is there in them ? It 
can only be found in two things : in their views, political 
and moral, and in their reasoning. But of what real value 
to us, are their views of their own political history and 
institutions ? who does not know that the civil and political 
liberty, and institutions of England and America, are, in 
no respect, whatever, indebted to the political philosophy 
of Greece and Eome, whether practical or theoretical. 
Our principles are derived, not from the study of classic 
models of government, but from the Christian development 
of feudal institutions. You may strike out of the history 
of man, all the political institutions of Greece and Eome, 
and England and America would still be what they are : 
and ours, the only model government for the world, that 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 355 

the world has ever seen. Did the founders of English 
freedom acquire their spirit, or imhibe their lessons from 
classic lore? Did the English revolutionists of 1640, or 
of 1688, or our own, of 1776, build on the politics of 
Aristotle, or the republic of Plato, for political truths ; or 
rely on Athenian and Eoman precedents ? Not so. They 
appealed to the peculiar principles of British freedom ; to 
the character of the British constitution, and to British 
writers, as authorities, on a question of English freedom. 
And of what value are ancient morals to us, with the New 
Testament in our hands? Then, as to their reasonings. 
Of what substantial worth can their reasonings be, founded 
on facts and relations, on laws, habits and manners, which 
are all foreign to us ; in which we are not interested ; and 
which are only matters of curiosity ? Of what value are 
they ? I ask, in comparison with the reasonings of British 
and American jurists and statesmen, of Erskine and 
Burke, of Marshall and Webster, on matters which deeply 
concern our past and present history and condition, and the 
prospect before us. This, little less than absurdity, of 
rejecting the study of our own, and of British institutions, 
for those, not only of a foreign, but of an ancient people, 
is one of the most extraordinary features of things as they 
are. 

Now, as to the entertainment derived from studying the 
Greek and Eoman orators. Will you find one out of one 
hundred, who studies them with any pleasure, while in school 
or college ; or who ever takes the trouble to review them in 
after life? What orator ever prepared himself for par- 
liamentary combat, over the pages of Cicero or Demosthe- 
nes ? Chatham devoured the Bible, Milton, or Burrow's 
sermons. Eox, it has been supposed, had fashioned him- 
self on the Greek orator as his model ; but he admitted to 
Dr. Parr, that he had never mastered him. Bossuet went 



356 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

not to these fountains for the waters of eloquence, but to 
Pascal and Homer; while Voltaire always had on his 
table, Massiilon andKacine. And who, in our own country, 
with all the efforts to keep up classical studies, and the ex- 
travagant admiration of the ancients, who ever heard of 
Webster and Clay, of Pinckney and Wirt, of Cheves, Cal- 
houn and McDuffie, seeking their energy, or reasoning, or 
resources, in Greek or Latin orators? Looking, then, to 
the practice of orators themselves, and of ninety-nine out 
of every hundred who have studied Demosthenes and 
Cicero, I feel that I can not be mistaken in the assertion, 
that they have all borne the most decisive testimony to tho 
fact, that there is neither entertainment nor inspiration to 
be derived from such authors. 

Having disposed of the Orators and Historians, let us now 
attend to the classic poets. Of what value are tliey ? I 
answer, of none, so far as useful knowledge is concerned ; 
for all must admit, that none is to be found in this class 
of writers. It is plain, that truth is a veri/ minor concern 
with writers of fiction. You can, therefore, only expect 
from them, amusement. But I would appeal to every hun- 
dred who have read them, and ninety-nine will say, they 
would rather read Marmion and the Lady of the Lake, 
Ivanhoe and Kenil worth, than Homer and Virgil into the 
bargain. Who ever read Homer, and Virgil, in the origin al, 
for entertainment ? If there be any such in the United 
States, I have never met with them, or heard of them. 
But we are told of the morals of the poets, and their noble 
sentiments. As to their morals, who would be willing to 
have a son, or brother, like the insolent and brutal Achil- 
les, the hero of the Iliad ; or like the mean and treacher- 
ous iEneas, the hero of the JEneid, if indeed it has any 
hero. What is the moral of the Iliad, from beginning to 
end, but war, in all its forms of slaughter and violence ? 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 357 

And where is the moral of tho iEneid to be found, but in 
the meanness, ingratitude and perfidy of JEneas, to Dido : 
and in his dishonorably and forcibly depriving Turnus of his 
betrothed bride, against her will, and then killing him ? But 
again, we are told that in the sketching and shading of char- 
acter, the ancient poets are unrivaled. I am strangely mista- 
ken, if there be not more power, fidelity, and beauty in Walter 
Scott, than in a dozen Homers and Virgils. Who would 
compare Achilles with Burley of Balfour; Agamemnon, 
with Coeur de Lion, or the Bruce ; Nestor, with the Doug- 
las ; Hector, with Ivanhoe ; Ulysses, with Louis XL ; 
Helen, with Effie Deans, or Constance ; Andromache, with 
Ellen, or the countess of Leicester, or Margaret of Brank- 
some ; Lavinia, with the Betrothed, or the bride of Lam- 
mermoor ; Dido, with Queen Elizabeth ; or Camilla with 
Diana Vernon ? And as to Calchas and Chryses, Cassan- 
dra and the Sybil, Meg Merrilies, alone, is worth a hun- 
dred such : while the death-scenes of Marmion, Front-de- 
bceuf, and the Templar, are more admirable tlian all the 
like in the Iliad and JEneid. What is there in them, to 
compare to the single combats of Burley and Both well ; of 
Fitzjames and Rhoderick Dhu ; of Ivanhoe and the Tem- 
plar ; of Saladin and the Leopard Knight? Again, we are 
told of the noble and moral sentiments of the classic poets. 
The beauties of Shakespeare are worth all the beauties of 
Homer and Virgil. There is more of the sublime, the 
moral, and the beautiful, of patriotism, in the penitent, 
self-sacrificing Roderic, of Southey, and in the virtuous, 
magnanimous Samor, of Milman, than in all the characters 
of tlie Iliad and ^neid, put together. As to the moral 
sentiment to be found in Homer, Juvenal and Persius, can 
it be compared to the Christian moral sentiment of Cow- 
per? whose Task, I would rather have written, than the 
Epistles of the first, and the Satires of all of them. 



358 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

Let me iiofc pass unnoticed, Cicero^s Offices, a book, of which 
a clergyman, the head of a college, has said, in a lecture 
on moral philosophy, " without the careful study of it, even 
at this time, a moral education must bo allowed to be very 
impcrfed.^^ If this bo true, it follows, irresistibly, that 
they ought to be published as an appendix to the New 
Testament, to ijerfect the imperfect laoral code of Christlan- 
itij. We still tolerate the Apocrypha, a mere human com- 
position, as an appendix to the history and morals of the 
Old Testament. Why should we not welcome Cicero's 
treatise, as an indispensable addition, if that opinion be true, 
to our mifinisJied moral code ? But in truth, so far is the 
sentiment from being accurate, that the Sermon on the 
Mount, alone, is worth all the Offices of Cicero ; and the New 
Testament, so far from being an imperfect, is a perfect 
code of moral duty. The trutli is, tlie moral philosophy 
of Cicero, like that of Epictetus and Antoninus, is of no 
more value, now that we have the New Testament, than 
the works of Aratus, Manilius, and Ptolemy, now tliat we 
have the modern astronomy. The ancient writers on mor- 
als are of no more importance to ninety-nine out of every 
hundred v/ho study the Greek and Latin, than the old 
writers on the mechanism of the heavens. Both classes of 
the ancients belong, not to tlie sciences, in their present 
state, but to their history, and to the history of the pro- 
gress of the human mind. They do not, therefore, con- 
cern, and can not interest, more than one out of every 
thousand of educated men ; for how few have paid any 
attention to the history of philosophy, or to the philosophy 
of history and society ? 

These are my views of the mathematics and classics, as 
sources of valuable and entertaining knowledge. They 
are views which grew up gradually, I can scarcely tell how, 
in the course of twenty years after I left college, and have 



AMEPJCAN EDUCATION. 359 

been maturing and strengthening ever since. I give them 
f now as the fruits of reading and meditation, of conversa- 
tion and observation, through a period of twenty-seven 
years. I can not therefore but say, if the schoolmaster 
be abroad in the land, as he certainly is, he is not a val- 
uable schoolmaster, so far as mathematics and classics are 
concerned ; because they do not furnish useful and interest- 
ing knowledge to the great majority who study them. 
Thus far he is not, in my opinion, the people's schoolmas- 
ter ; because as to these branches, he is not the schoolmas- 
ter of our age and our country. 

The fifth objectionable feature, in tilings as they are, is, 
that the present system has no direct and obvious tendency ^ 
as a good system ougJit toJiave, to create and preserve the habit 
of intellectual improvement and the love of reading. Its ten- 
dency on the contrary is just the reverse. This is matter 
of fact ; and lies open to the observation of every one, who 
has only to look abroad with an attentive eye, and he will 
come to the same conclusions at which I have arrived. 
These are proof that the great majority of tliose who have 
studied the classics and mathematics, acquired from tliem- 
no love of study and taste for reading, plainly because they 
studied them as tasks, and without pleasure : and secondly 
of that great majority, all who acquired and preserved such 
a love and taste were indebted for them to the poets, novel- 
ists, historians, biographers and essayists of England and 
America. Now, a system of education which, instead of 
creating that love of study and that taste for reading, 
leaves the young to make it or find it, when and how they 
can, is lamentably deficient in a principal duty. That this 
is one of the most important and sacred duties of instructors, 
can be doubted by no man. All will agree that the love 
of study and a taste for reading are among the chief secu- 
rities of virtue and character, of happiness and usefulness 



360 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

in the great majoritij of tlie educated. Otlier impulses gov- 
ern the few ; but never reach the many ; such as uncom- 
mon strength of principle and purpose, ambition and 
remarkable talents, or peculiar advantages of encourage- 
ment and example. The few require little or no stimulus 
to mental improvement. How much the many require, 
how difficult to select, to apply, to make operative, all 
teachers know to their sorrow. And yet, as though to cre- 
ate and secure to themselves a tenfold share of trouble, of 
trial, of temper, of mortification, they still persist in teach- 
ing the classics and mathematics, where are the chief, I 
may almost say, the only fountains of such torment to 
themselves and of such widespread calamity to their 
pupils. When will the schoolmaster who is abroad in the 
land, take a plain, practical, common sense view of his office ; 
instead of sitting down contented, with theories of educa- 
tion, which originated in other ages and countries, and none 
of which had the people in view. Why will he not study 
society, as it is in his own country? its character as a Chris- 
tian, American community ; its wants and objects, as a 
republican educated people ? The schoolmaster of things 
as they are, has indeed done much, and deserves our thanks, 
but the schoolmaster of things as they should he, will deserve 
and receive from the people of this country, Benjamin's 
portion of praise and gratitude. 

6. The sixth objectionable feature in the existing order 
of things, is, that our schemes of education do not furnish 
that discipline of mind, which the country stands in need of. 
What, I shall be asked, do you deny, that the mathemat- 
ics are an admirable discipline of mind ? Where will you 
find such close and clear reasoning, such consummate logic. 
Grant it all, for the sake of the argument, but the ques- 
tion arises, what have the materials and the modes of reas- 
oning of the Mathematician, to do with the materials and 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 361 

modes of reasoning, in the more popular sciences ? If a man 
is to spend his life in thinking and reasoning about matter and 
Us forms and relations, let him devote all his youth to the 
science of matter. But on the contrary, if he is to live in 
the world of men, and to think and reason about their duties 
and business, and all their relations, public and private, 
does it not, then, seem to be the wise course, to draw his 
materials, his Jiahits of thinking and modes of reasoning, 
from the world of men, not the world of matter? The 
great evils which now exist in all our schemes on the sub- 
ject of thinking and reasoning, is, that the logic of math- 
ematics is cultivated as though it were the logic of actual 
life; whether public or private. But it is the logic of 
neither. No one ever applied the thinking and reasoning 
of the mathematician, to the business or the duties of life. 
It would be as complete a misapplication of the geometri- 
cian's art, as if we were to employ the forms or intricacies 
of the scholastic logic for the same purposes. The math- 
ematician's, and the schoolman's arts, are equally strangers 
to the business and duties of real life. They have no more 
to do with the subjects and relations, with the trials and diffi- 
culties of duty and business, than the art of the astrologer. 
Now, the reliance placed upon the mathematics as a system 
of mental discipline, has led to the neglect of thinking and 
reasoning, peculiar to the moral sciences. If the time devoted 
to the mathematics, were dedicated to the latter, we should 
not only have sounder thinkers and better reasoners on the 
business and duties of life ; but men incomparably better in- 
formed on religious, political, moral and mental philosophy. 
Let us grant it, for the sake of argument, say the admi- 
rers of the classics, and we offer you in them the very 
desideratum you are in search of. My reply is a very 
obvious one. It is true, that you offer me books which 
treat of the affairs of men and nations, of their duties and 
31 



362 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

business. But none of them concern me. They belong to 
a different age, state of society and country, to men among 
whom we never have lived and never shall live. Is it not 
wise to take our own age and country, our own institutions 
and state of society, as materials : and to train ourselves to 
think and to reason upon and from them ; seeing that they 
are to be the subjects of all our duties and business through 
life ? Common sense can not hesitate in giving an affir- 
mative reply ; but unfortunately common sense has hitherto 
had but little influence in constructing schemes of educa- 
tion. And I fear it will continue to have but little 

«' Till warned or by experience taught, she learns, 

That not to know at large of things remote 

From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 

That which before us lies in daily life, 

Is the prime wisdom : Par. Lost, B. 8, v. 190. 

But the advocates of the classics will then say — What 
though we grant your remark to be just, will it not be con- 
ceded that, independently of the facts, principles and reas- 
onings contained in the classics, the very study of langua- 
ges, in the application of rules of grammar, and in the 
investigation of the meaning of words and sentences, is of 
itself an admirable discipline of mind ? My reply is again 
a very obvious one. Here also, you overlook, in your 
anxiety to vindicate the classics, the true ends of education. 
If men had to spend their lives in thinking and reasoning 
about the meaning of ivords and sentences, there would be 
justice in your argument. But they are on the contrary 
to spend their lives in reasoning and thinking about men 
and things : and these presuppose a command of language, 
a knowledge of the meaning of words, and of the construc- 
tion of sentences. Very true, it will be said ; but is it not 
the very discipline through which you go in the study 
of the classics, which fits you thus to think and reason 
about men and things? 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 363 

My answer is, it is not ; for the study of Greek and Latin 
sentences teach me to understand English sentences, no 
more than the study of Spanish, French or Italian: not 
as much indeed ; because these resemble English much more 
in every respect, than the ancient languages. Besides, if 
it were granted that such was the effect of studying Latin 
and Greek, what a waste of time to accomplish the purpose ; 
when nine tenths of what you study has nothing to do with 
English. The proof is easy. There are in our language 
no cases, no declensions, no conjugations ; we have no gov- 
ernment but the simple rule, that prepositions and active 
verbs govern their objects. Of verbs, prepositions, adjec- 
tives, participles, adverbs, as governing different cases, we 
know nothing. Now, turn to your Greek and Latin Gram- 
mars, and how much, after taking out all this do you find 
applicable to English ? The only answer is, about one tenth, 
if as much : and tliat one tenth consists for the most part 
of the plain, simple rules of universal grammar. Why 
then should I be tormented and perplexed by the study of 
those nine tenths, which have nothing to do with my 
language, when the remaining one tenth can just as well 
be obtained from any other foreign language, and of course, 
still more perfectly from my own ? Now, all my think- 
ings and reasonings about men and things are to be car- 
ried on in English. Would it not seem wiser then, to learn 
the art of thinking and reasoning, from the English itself, 
rather than from a foreign language ? the more especially 
too, when it is considered, how exceedingly the idioms of 
Greek and Latin differ from those of our own tono'ue. 

7. This leads me to the next objectionable feature in 
our existing schemes of education. I refer to the neglect of 
the study of the English language. This, beyond all doubt, 
is sacrificed to the study of Greek and Latin. Eemove 
these, and the study of English alone could take their 



364 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

place, and we should have a hundred admirable English 
scholars, where we now have ninety nine, neither Greek, 
Latin nor English, and one tolerable as a classical, but infe- 
rior as an English scholar. English is the instrument, by 
which the great majority are to obtain character, standing, 
employment and property : by which they are to discharge 
the offices, duties and business of society ; by which they 
are to enjoy domestic and social happiness, and all the 
rational innocent pleasures of life ; and by which they are to 
serve God and their country, their families, friends, and the 
human race. Yet this languagcj of such incalculable value, 
is most strangely neglected, instead of being the subject of 
study from beginning to end, in the school, academy, and 
college. I should not regard myself as discharging one 
of the clearest, and most interesting of duties, if I did not 
inculcate on the young mind the most profound respect for 
their noble, admirable native English. I would have them 
to regard it with the sanctity of feeling, with which they 
venerate a father — with the deep and pure love, with which 
they cling to a mother. A thorough knowledge of the 
English grammar and English language is indeed a most 
rare acquirement, in the student who has finished his edu- 
cation at our colleges. I scarcely ever met with one who 
possessed it. Eor myself, I know that after I had grad- 
uated, I was obliged to study the English grammar myself, 
to make up for my deficiencies. The degree of Bachelor 
of Arts, so far from presupposing that the graduate is 
master of his own language, is on the contrary in too many 
instances, a proof that he is not. Such is at least the 
very clear result of my observation and experience. 

8. The next objectionable feature in our present schemes 
of education is, that they teach English composition very 
imperfectly ; while extempore speaking and conversation 
find no place in the scheme. Now, the command of the 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 365 

English language in these three forms, is absolutely 
indispensable to every educated man in our country ; and 
the neglect of them is therefore the more to be wondered 
at, and lamented. It is plain that a very large amount of 
all public and private business must be conducted through 
the medium of writing. Look at the hundreds of editors, 
and the thousands of contributors to our public prints, 
throughout our country ; and at the immense amount of 
public and private business transacted through letters, 
which can not be composed by any study of epistolary forms. 
The truth is, English composition ought to be a prominent 
part of all education, from the time the hand writing is well 
formed, to the exercises at commencement. It is one of 
the best exercises of the mind that can be devised for the 
cultivation of thinking and reasoning, and for acquiring 
the art of using and applying our knowledge, Facility in 
composition is only to be acquired in most instances, by 
continued practice through a long course of years. A 
theme, or essay, or call it what you will, ought to be 
required once a week from the age of ten, till education is 
finished. 

If composition is neglected, how much more is extem- 
pore speaking. I do not mean of course speaking tvitJiout 
preparation, but the reverse, speaking afte7* preparation. 
As the matter now stands, this most important branch of 
education is left in the hands of the students in their deba- 
ting societies. These are acknowledged to be very valuable 
institutions, by all who know any thing of the history of 
colleges. In my opinion, every class, whether in school, 
academy, or college, ought to become, according to its degree 
of improvement, a debating society, the tutor or the profes- 
sor of rhetoric being the presiding officer. Look at the 
time spent in teachins* declamation, that is, the art of 



366 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

delivering with suitable energy, variety and grace, the 
compositions of others; an art absolutely useless in itself, 
except to the actor or the reciter of specimens of eloquence 
or poetry. But the art of speaking one's own compositions, 
whether committed to memory or delivered extempore, is 
totally neglected. Surely this is a strange contradiction — 
to teach the art of declaiming, and yet not to teach the 
application of it by each individual in his own case. Is not 
this much the same as to instruct apprentices how to make 
models, and yet never to teach them how to make the very 
things, for whose sake only, the models are of any value. 
Now, why should not the extempore speaking of the stu- 
dent furnish an opportunity for applying the art of decla- 
mation to its only legitimate, because its only useful object, 
extempore speaking. I would have the teacher, while 
delivering his opinion, to rise and to set the example 
himself of applying declamation to the art of extempore 
speaking. It is to be remembered also, that preparation 
for this exercise is among the efficient modes of improve- 
ment that are known in the cultivation of thinking and 
reasoning, and the application of our knowledge. I need 
hardly say, that all my remarks as to the value of com- 
position in actual life, for the transaction both of public 
and private business, apply with still greater force to 
extempore speaking. How many speeches are delivered 
in legislative halls and courts of justice, in comparison to 
the reports and decisions that are written. In popular as- 
semblies and in an immense number of societies of various 
descriptions, almost every thing is done by speaking, and 
not by writing. And yet, this art, absolutely indispensable 
to the social and public business of the country, is untaught ; 
while its shadow, its mere mask, declamation, is assiduously 
attended to. Is not this like the statuary, who should 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 367 

instruct his pupil in the. costume of statuary ; hut should 
leave him to learn the sculpture of the human form, by 
his own unassisted efforts ? 

I complain also of the existing schemes of education, 
because they do not teach the art of conversation. I say 
the art of conversation ; for it is indeed a noble art : and 
well deserves to be ranked as an important branch of 
education. How much of human happiness, usefulness and 
business depends on this talent ! How much of public and 
private duty and influence ! How entirely does it fill up 
the vast blank, which is left unoccupied either by the art 
of writing, or by that of speaking ! Among the educated 
and polished, the faculty for conversation is studiously cul- 
tivated as an object of taste, for the sake of excelling, and 
as a promoter of social pleasure. Now, the possession 
of the art in a much inferior degree, is a valuable acquisi- 
tion to persons of every description. The highest are not 
too elevated, nor the humble too low, to partake of its 
benefits. We may call it indeed the friend and companion 
of all, and emphatically of the people. A very important 
object is undoubtedly gained by the introduction of this 
practice into education. It will aid in removing the 
restraint, which may exist between a teacher and his pupils, 
impairing his influences over them, and maintaining the 
outward form of authority, without any solid and cordial 
support in the esteem or respect of the young. To engage 
once a week in a free, yet Avell-bred and perfectly respect- 
ful conversation, could not but strengthen the bond of 
union between the instructor and his scholars ; for the 
candor and warmth of social intercourse would draw them 
closer together. The subject of this weekly conversation 
should be the compositions of the class, as furnishing a sub- 
ject ready to hand, upon w^hich most, if not all would be 
prepared of course. A great object would be, for the 



S68 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

master to criticise tlie papers handed in, leading the pupils 
themselves to take part in it by proposing questions for them 
to answer; and thus inducing conversation on the various 
errors or oversights, which the superior skill of the teacher 
might detect. I should not rest satisfied, however, with 
conversation merely on that day. It seems to me, that in 
many instances the teacher ought to make the lesson the 
Bubject of conversation, rather than of recitation. I appre- 
hend he could just as easy satisfy himself by a few ques- 
tions on a sentence, whether the scholars had studied it, as 
by hearing them recite it. Indeod T should regard it as a 
much more certain method ; for they may recite without 
understanding it, but they cannot answer judicious- ques- 
tions, without understanding it. This plan would enable 
him to save a great deal of time,, now lost on unnecessary 
details. Besides it has this capital advantage : it does 
what the whole system, as now administered, is radically 
defective in, it draws out the minds of the pupils^ and gives 
them an activity of exercise, which is sadly neglected in 
the present plan. Now, conversation is decidedly one of 
the best means of improving the mind, by putting in 
requisition all its powers, not separately, but happily 
combined together in their action. The coloquial inter- 
course of inferior with superior minds is an admirable 
species of education for the great majority of them, having 
the tendency to raise them gradually above their own 
standard. To cultivate such minds also in this mode, can 
not but create as a necessary consequence more of self-reli- 
ance, because it gives a readier command of their own 
powers and resources. Nor can we fail to see, that the 
efi'ect of a change in this respect, in education, would be, 
through the influence of pupils thus trained, to improve 
conversation in its style, materials and spirit. May I con- 
clude this part of our subject by an illustration? 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 369 

Conversation is to the mind like daily exercise to the body ; 
while composition and extempore speaking are like long 
journeys. These are indispensable to the few, though 
for the sake of the many ; that is indispensable to the 
many, for their own sakes. Hence the obligations of 
teachers to cultivate those three branches assiduously. 
Certainly " the people^s school-master,'' if he rightly 
understands and duly appreciates those obligations, should 
not fail to do so : and yet he does. 

9. The ninth objectionable feature in the present system 
of education is, that while there is some apparent atten- 
tion paid to English grammar, (and taking the whole 
scheme of school, academy, and colleges together, it is more 
apparent thanreal)^ yet there is no attention whatever paid 
to speaking good grammar. Does it not seem strange, 
that so much pains should be taken to teach a boy the 
rules of grammatical speaking, and yet that he should never 
he exercised in them hj actual practice'^ 

Is not this another error in things as they are, precisely 
analogous to that which teaches declamation, but not extem- 
pore speaking. Does not each of them teach the thing to 
he applied, without teaching HOW to apply it? Now, it is 
the plain and undeniable duty of a master, not only to take 
care that no bad grammar be spoken by the pupils at any 
time, within his hearing, a thing of more constant occur- 
ence than most instructors are aware of, but to make 
instruction in grammatical speaking a regular exercise of the 
school. This end is at once attained, in the most simple 
and beneficial form that can be devised, by recitations in 
the form of conversation : and by critical examinations in 
the same mode, of the compositions of the class. Now, if 
the master would make this a daily business, he would ac- 
complish far more than he now does with all his theoreti- 
cal instruction. Grammar then would cease to be, as it now 



370 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

is, the useless torment of children and hoi/s, and would 
become, as it ought to be, the study only of youth sufficiently 
advanced to understand it tvith little or no trouble. In this 
mode, all the time now wasted on grammar would be saved: 
and more would be understood and hioivnofit in six months, 
than is now attained in several years. 

I have thus completed my survey of tilings as they are 
in education : and have endeavored to show you, that the 
schoolmaster, who is abroad in our land, is not the school- 
master of our age and country ; that he is not a wise, 
observant, practical schoolmaster ; that he is not the people's 
schoolmaster ; because he does not consult their best interests 
in the best modes. I have presented to your consideration 
nine objections to our existing schemes of education. I 
recapitulate them briefly. 

1. The system is not decidedly religious. 2. It is not 
decidedly American. 3. It suits equally well other ages 
and countries, forms of government, states of society, and 
literature. 4. It does not fill the mind with valuable and 
entertaining knowledge; because the mathematics and 
classics, which occupy so large a portion of youthful time, 
do not furnish either. 5. It does not create and preserve 
the love of study and a taste for reading. 6. It does not 
furnish the discipline of mind which our country needs. 7. 
It neglects, strangely and unhappily, the study of the Eng- 
lish language. 8. It teaches composition very imperfectly, 
and extempore speaking and conversation, not at all. 9. 
It does not teach pupils to speah good English. However 
much it may be doubted, whether all of these objections 
are of equal avail against the existing order of things, it 
can not be denied, that there are both truth and reason, in 
a greater or less degree, in all of them. They deserve then 
the serious consideration of all who are engaged in the 
instruction of youth. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 371 

I proceed now to the second grand division of my subject ; 
and propose to lay before you the correctives to the nine 
objections, which I have made. In doing this, I shall pre- 
sent to you things as they sJwuldbe, in my opinion, contras- 
ted with things as they are. It will be perceived, that the 
heads already presented have been examined, some very 
briefly, others extensively. Thus will my labor be dimin- 
ished in this second division ; while it has had the effect 
as I hope, of diversifying the subject, by varying the mode 
treating it. The reasonings offered so much at large under 
some of the topics, will render very little necessary beyond 
a statement of opposite views. 

1. Things as they should be, demand then, imperatively, 
that education should be decidedly religious. It is granted 
on all hands, that religion is the highest interest of man ; 
that it is the cement of society and the foundation of gov- 
ernment ; that it is the best safeguard of duty, and a foun- 
tain of the purest happiness. It is also granted, that 
nothing can supply its place, that arts and sciences, learn- 
ing and eloquence, genius and taste are of little value 
without it. Equally is it granted, that the great majority 
who come out of our schools, and colleges, learn nothing in 
them of this momentous concern. Can this be right any 
where? How much more is it wrong then, in a country 
where the people, being and doing every thing, are un- 
controlled, but by the voluntary restraints they lay upon 
themselves. Is not religion incomparably more important 
in such a case, than where an old established order of things, 
in a good measure independent of them, commands the 
habitual respect and obedience of the people ? It is grant- 
ed by every intelligent man, that religion is the chief 
safeguard of American institutions ; that none but a relig- 
ious people can remain free ; that without morals, there is 
no foundation or cement for government, and that society 



372 AMEEICAN EDUCATION. 

must be a chaos, fit only for despotism, aristocracy, or 
anarchy. And yet, though all this be granted, the Chris- 
tian religion, emphatically the religion of the people, is not 
made a part of the scheme of general education. I can not 
but regard this as a great calamity to the country ; and it 
becomes well the people of the United States, to consider 
whether they are not guilty of a striking dereliction of duty 
to their posterity, by thus excluding religion from their 
daily course of instruction. Let the schoolmaster who is 
abroad in our land, answer then the question, is he a 
Christian schoolmaster ? 

I have said that nothing can supply the place of Christi- 
anity. A moment's reflection will put this beyond doubt. 
It is the only religion that is spiritual, intellectual, moral ; 
the only one that fills at once the soul, the mind, the lieart ; 
the only religion that is profound in doctrine, simple in 
precept, and perfectly practical ; the only one that teaches 
the most enlightened duty and the most enlarged useful- 
ness ; and enjoins an inflexible faith in God, and compre- 
hensive, considerate, tender love to man. Such a religion 
was evidently given to be the only basis of all character in 
this life, as it is the only security for bliss in the world to 
come. It was given as the sole standard of duty; the sole 
test of usefulness ; the sole fountain of happiness, temporal 
and eternal. This religion was vouchsafed to man, to teach 
him what he can never learn from any other source, the 
character of God, his own character and necessities, his 
relation to God and his fellow-men, and his own destiny, 
while it meets the demands of every form of government, 
of every state of society, and of every condition of life. It 
is equal to the most sublime, as to the most humble duties, 
to the most extended, as to the most minute usefulness, 
to all that the public can require, or the individual need. 
It was given to convert the Pagan into the Christian, by 



AMEKICAN EDUCATION. 373 

abolishing his system of religion and morals, personal, social 
and public ; by working a thorough change in the principles 
and character of his relations, public and private ; by effect- 
ing a fundamental revolution in the spirit of his institu- 
tions ; by substituting the will of God for the will of man ; 
the rule of duty for the rule of expediency ; and the meek, 
benevolent, long-suffering virtues of the Prince of Peace, 
and God of Love, for the proud, destructive, unforgiving 
heroic virtues of Grecian and Roman Patriots. This relig- 
ion was given to work an entire change in the character, 
habits and prospects of man ; to purify, reform and re- 
generate society and government ; to make each distinct 
people a Christian nation, and of all, a Christian world. 

Now, it is impossible that Christianity can ever accom- 
plish its object, unless it he made an element of all general 
education, and enter into the daily administration of the 
whole system. The first great reform to be made then in 
things as they are, so as to make them things as they 
should be, is to introduce religion into the every day instruc- 
tion of school, academy and college. The Bible should be- 
come a text book, from the infant school to the university ; 
not only as the fountain of duty and usefulness ; but as 
containing history, the most authentic and valuable ; 
biography the most instructive and interesting ; the most 
profound philosophy, theological and moral ; the most en- 
larged yet practical wisdom; eloquence and poetry, the 
most sublime, pathetic and beautiful. The scriptures 
should draw along with them, as a matter of course, all the 
requisite text books to explain and illustrate their history 
and biography, antiquities, manners, customs and geogra- 
phy ; as also their peculiar theology and morals. With 
the great advantages now afforded by the higher order of 
Sunday-school books, for the selection of such works in the 
scholastic and academic departments, there could be no 



374 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

difficulty. It would be one consequence of this great change, 
that the philosophy of Palcy could be no longer tolerated : 
and, when rejected, either the Bible alone would be the 
standard of moral philosophy, or some work like Jonathan 
Dymond's Essays, must be adopted as a worthy hand-maid 
of the Christian Testament. Or, perhaps, such a body of 
sermons as Dr. Dwight's on the ten commandments, might 
be advantageously introduced. It would not be difficult, if 
the demand for them should warrant it, to select from the 
best English and American divines, a couple of volumes 
that would exhibit a very satisfactory view of Christian 
morals. 

2. The second great change which should be wrought 
in the existing system of education, is to make it decidedly 
American. This would seem to be as obviously right and 
expedient, in a temporal point of view, as the preceding, in 
an eternal. That the history and institutions of our own 
country demand more of our time and attention than any 
other, can not surely be doubted. Does it not then appear 
strange, that they should form so inconsiderable a part of 
the studies of American youth ; when every one admits that 
to be ignorant of them is disgraceful to the man. How 
shall the man know them as he ought ? except he be well 
informed as to facts ; and be deeply imbued with their 
spirit, in early life. This is obviously the wise and efficient 
course, and in this respect, there must be an American 
REVOLUTION IN EDUCATION, before it will be fit for and wor- 
thy of this country. I would then propose that American 
history, biography, and geography should become part of 
every plan of general instruction, through the whole course 
of education. This would commence with the discovery of 
America, would embrace the history of all the other countries 
of the new world ; would present the annals of each of our 
states, of the revolution, confederation, and new constitution, 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 375 

down to the latest period to which an authentic, well writ- 
ten history could be obtained. xA.merican biography follows 
of course. I do not name the Life of Washington ; because 
it is, to a vast extent, identical and coextensive with the 
history of his country. But the lives of the most remark- 
able of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, with 
those of Franklin, Greene, Jay, Henry, Morris and others, 
are worth incomparably more in the education of Americans, 
than the whole body of classic biography, notwithstanding 
the sentiment of Theodore Gaza, that if all books were 
about to be destroyed, but one, he would, if he had the 
the selection, save Plutarch. Let us present the following 
consideration, in favor of American history and biography: 
If there is not time for studying both the foreign and do- 
mestic departments of these branches of knowledge, which 
ought to be preferred? Assuredly no one can hesitate in 
replying ** unquestionably our own.'^ Again, if there be 
time for the study of both, which ought to be preferred? 
Can but one answer be given ? certainly our own. Let us 
make sure of that in the first instance, and then whatever 
can be spared for the other, shall be given to it. Perhaps, 
it may be said that ancient is the foundation of modern 
history, and therefore ought to be first taught. The reply 
is an obvious one. If your system contained a complete 
course of ancient and modern history, there would be sense 
in the remark ; but in truth it comprises nothing of mod- 
ern, but what is found in one or two juvenile books, and as 
to ancient history, you offer nothing but disjointed frag- 
ments. I do not however admit the justness of the remark, 
for however novel or strange the opinion may appear, I am 
convinced, that the best plan is to study history backwards, 
not forwards. This remark applies to the history of the 
world as divided into great periods ; to the history of par- 
ticular nations f as divided in the same manner ; and to the 



376 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

history of great events, if sufficiently independent of each 
other, as the American compared with the British and 
French Kevolutions : the Keformation, compared with the 
discovery of America. The very fact that the histories of 
different countries, and of great periods, are written as sep- 
arate works, establishes this position. The history of each 
nation is far more connected with that of cotemporary 
nations than with any that preceded it. The history of 
every people is to a far greater extent independent, than 
dependent on that of preceding nations. It is the same 
with the history of remarkable eras in the life of any given 
nation : and with regard to periods of a more general char- 
acter, such as the crusades, and the thirty years war, 
the great mass of facts which constitute the history, are 
independent of preceding history. And as to either class, 
a suitable introduction, and suitable explanations in the 
body of the work, would be all sufficient for the vast ma- 
jority of readers. I am not providing, it will be observed, 
a course of history for the profound student of the history 
and philosophy of society, in its progress from the plains of 
Shinar to the prairies of our great West, and in all its 
phases of the savage and barbarian, of the civilized and 
the polished. 

I am sensible that succeeding history is always more or 
less connected with the preceding ; but this connection is 
much more obvious and important in the history of society 
and its institutions, than in what is commonly called history, 
and especially ancient history, that is the annals of govern- 
ments and rulers. Now the latter is chiefly occupied with 
war and foreign relations, and would occupy the years of 
childhood and boyhood ; while the former is more particu- 
larly devoted to institutions, and domestic relations, and 
would be reserved for youth and early manhood, supposing 
education to close at twenty-one. So with regard to biography. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 377 

Frivaie or jjersonal biography should be the study of 
early years, but the lives oi jmblic men, including eminent 
clergymen, missionaries and philanthropists, which belong 
properly to the historical department, vvould be laid aside 
for the period between sixteen or seventeen and twenty-one. 
I regret that the value oi private biography is so little esti- 
mated. The lives of warriors, above all others, seem to be 
selected for school-books ; as though in the eye of religion 
and reason, and as though in our age and country, the 
warrior were not a subordinate character. Is it not alto- 
gether wiser, safer, and more consistent with the spirit of 
American institutions, to put into the hands of our youth, 
the lives of men, eminently useful as Christians, and phi- 
lanthropists ; as professional men, merchants, and mechan- 
ics ; as artists, farmers, seamen and travelers ? The 
warrior is but the gay plume, the graceful tassel of society : 
tliey are society itself. By this change, we accomplish two 
objects, in my judgment, of great value. First, we keep 
before youth continually, classes of character, of events and 
scenes, of virtues and vices, arising out of conditions of life, 
for which the great majority of them are destined. Such 
biography is therefore an actual preparation for real life. 
It is constantly familiarizing them with facts, which are to 
become under various modifications, the very substance of 
their own, and of the lives of all around them. Second, 
this species of biography is calm and grave, breathing the 
spirit of peace, usefulness, and benevolence ; whereas the 
life of the warrior, like his arms and dress, is gaudy and 
full of the now and unnatural, compared to ordinary life ; 
and of cruelty, pride and misery, when contrasted with the 
usual course of events in cities, villages, or the country at 
large. Hence, we should not set before the young mind an 
ostentatious, exaggerated, dazzling standard of human life 
and character, of reputation and hope. On the contrary, 
32 



378 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

we should present a scene, plain and serious, teaching every- 
where private and social duty and usefulness, in the very 
walks and relations of life which the great majority must 
occupy. How few of tlie multitude who are educated, are 
to he puhlic men : and how fortunate for the country, how 
happy for themselves, if all our puhlic men had heen trained 
in early life, in this plain, valuahle, henevolent school of 
biography. 

The third great change which I desire to see wrought 
in the existing schemes of education, would he to make 
them in all respects 'peculiarly suitable to our religion, gov- 
ermnent, state of society and literature. It is manifest, that 
these objects would be attained in a great degree, by the 
alterations proposed under the two preceding heads : and 
all beyond that, which might be desirable, would be accom- 
plished by the changes to be hereafter mentioned. The 
combined effect of all would be to make education, as it 
ought to be, the natural offspring of its own age and coun- 
try, suited to their present state and exigencies and thor- 
oughly prepared for its own progress and prospects. 

4. The fourth great change which I propose, is to 
provide in every stage of education an abundant supply of 
useful and entertaining hwwledge. This would be partly 
accomplished, under the two points previously noticed. 
From the views already presented, under the corresponding 
heads of my first division, you will not be surprised, that 
I am prepared to lay aside both the classics and mathemat- 
ics, as departments of education. I have been gradually 
brought to this conclusion, through a course of years, 
founded on personal experience, observation and long con- 
tinued reflection. This result is directly contrary to all 
my original opinions and predilections : and being unable 
to trace the change to any motives of selfishness, ambition, 
disappointment, or to any other like source, I am constrained 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 379 

to act upon it, as a deliberate, dispassionate conviction, 
equally approved by my conscience, mind and heart. I have 
said that I would retain so much of common arithmetic, as 
is valuable for the business of life. All the rest I should 
discard, and with them, as fit companions in the department 
of the useless and unentertaining, I would banish both 
Greek and Latin, and all the classics, from a course of 
general education. Having satisfied myself that the 
knowledge which they contain is valueless and uninteres- 
ting to the great majority, who have been hitherto compelled 
to study them, I do not scruple to abandon both. Being 
equally satisfied, myself, that the discipline of mind which 
they impart is equally worthless to that same majority, I 
do not hesitate to abandon them on this account also. I 
propose to substitute, what can not be denied to be both 
useful and entertaining knowledge : and a species of disci- 
pline more closely connected with, and better adapted to 
the duties and business of the great majorit}^ of the educa- 
ted. It is plain, that I regard languages and mathematics 
as belonging to the department of ^particulars not general 
education. I would leave those who need the former, as 
professional men or scholars, and such as require the latter, 
as engineers, surveyors, architects, navigators, professors, 
to obtain them, just as they do whatever is j^eculiar to them- 
selves, and not cojmnon to them and the community. In a 
word, I regard the mathematics and the classics as belong- 
ing to the department oi professional, not to that of popular 
education : and the classics, as properly an ornamental, not 
a useful branch of study. They must therefore, in my 
view, be rejected, in any scheme of things as tJiey should hey 
which '' the people's schoolmaster '' might establish. 

Let us now attend to the substitutes proposed. I have 
already said, that I should retain natural philosophy : and 
indeed, not only should I gladly keep it as a part of the 



380 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

course ; but I should rejoice if thrice the time were spent 
upon it, which is now devoted to this branch. I should 
add also an extensive course of natural history, as being 
full of curious and valuable information : and should 
especially cultivate the departments which treat of man, 
animals and plants. These are more open io the knowl- 
edge and observation of most men : and while they would 
be more readily preserved, they would become more exten- 
sively and frequently the subjects of conversation. This I 
regard as one of the most important objects of general 
education, viz: to furnish materials and inducements for 
intelligent and entertaining conversation. The present 
system, as to the great majority, is utterly barren of both. 
To natural philosophy and natural history, I would add 
an extensive course of geography, beginning with the study 
of maps only, ^vithout books, and ending with such a book 
as Maltebrun's. Too little attention is paid to this 
important and interesting department of knowledge. To 
a reading people like the Americans, who can not take up 
a newspaper, without feeling the necessity of geographical 
information, its value must be obvious. As connected with 
this branch of education, I should rank those works, which 
treat of the wonders of art and nature. I can only say, 
that in my judgment, a young man would find more valu- 
able and interesting knowledge in such books, than in 
the fragments of Greek and Eoman history taught in our 
seminaries. We may arrange under the same head of 
geography, those publications which treat of the manners 
and customs of different ages and countries. These, belong- 
ing to the department of the costume, not of the instituiions 
of society, would be matters of curious and entertaining, 
not of useful knowledge; but as such they would have their 
value, especially in conversations. Geography seems also 
to embrace with propriety, the subject of travels. Many 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 381 

volumes of tliis description are full of useful and amusing 
facts, well worthy of being treasured up as materials for 
conversation ; and like many other subjects already noticed, 
for argument and instruction, in speaking and writing. 
Take an example. To New Englandcrs, whether at home 
or abroad, the travels of Dr. Dwight are more full of the 
instructive and entertaining, than the Livy, Ccesar and 
Tacitus they study at scliool. 

I have already presented the subject of American history 
and biography. Let us now turn to the foreign. I regard 
English history, beginning with the age of the reforma- 
tion, as more important to the American, next to the history 
of his own country, than all other history. To that, therefore, 
I would have a large time devoted : and the same remarks 
apply to English biography, including like the history, 
both Scotch and Irish. To English history, prior to the 
age of Henry VIIL, less attention would be necessary; 
because with a few exceptions, it is like ancient history, 
rather the annals of a succession of chiefs, than tlie history 
of tlie progress and development of a community. I would 
add to English history that of modern Europe generally ; 
selecting particular periods and works, and the history of 
France especially, on account of its intimate connection 
with that of England and Europe at large. Continental 
biography vfould of course be included in the plan. 

It may perhaps be said, that such a mass of history 
would overload the memory, and that in the cultivation of 
that faculty the understanding would be neglected. If it 
should be so, the fault would not lie in the subject or the 
student, but in the teacher. Let him make it his business 
to draw out the minds of his pupils, by requiring them to 
study the characters of men, as well as the motives of 
events, and to form and express their judgment on ques- 
tions of public and private policy, of justice and injustice, 



382 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

of wisdom and folly, of propriety and impropriety. History 
and biography furnish the most abundant materials for 
the exercise of the thinking and reasoning powers of 
youth. Here also we see the advantage of the conversa- 
tional mode of instruction ; which would enable the teacher, 
without going tJiroygh the whole lesson as usual, to satisfy 
himself whether bis pupil had studied. 

Following tbe order of the fourtb head of my first main 
division, I come now to eloquence. Having laid aside the 
ancient, I should of course adopt the modern. Considering 
tbe Englisb and American as one, I should introduce an 
extensive course of Christian, civil and literary eloquence. 

The first I would take from the best sermon writers of 
England and America — not with a view to doctrine and 
morals, which belong to the first head of my second main 
division — but with a view to illustrate the evidences, cbai^ 
acter, relations, influence and progress of the Christian 
religion. The second I would select from the most able 
and eloquent speeches and opinions of statesmen, lawyers 
and judges, both Englisb and American. Nor should I feel 
any difficulty in believing, that a young man who should 
Btudy such a course, would be incomparably better educated, 
than he who had read all Cicero and Demosthenes. My 
reason is a very obvious one. Eloquence, in all its depart- 
ments, is a commentary on, and an illustration of the insti- 
tutions of society, and is properly a branch of the philosophy 
of history. Prefering, therefore, the history of my own 
country and of England to every other, it follows of course, 
that I should prefer American and English, to Athenian 
and Koman eloquence, whether I regard their usefulness 
or interest. The former is the off"spring of the genius of 
the age, and of the spirit of the institutions of the two 
nations ; the latter belongs to remote eras and foreign 
countries. The third or literary department would consist 



AMEKICAN EDUCATION. 383 

of a selection of the ablest and most eloquent essays or 
articles in reviews, illustrating various points in history, 
arts and sciences and literature, and serving as profound 
and eloquent commentaries on many of the facts and princi- 
ples which the course of education had already presented 
to the student. In such a volume, for example, I would 
have Dr. Channing's two articles on Bonaparte, Mr. Quin- 
cy's address on the second centenial anniversary of Boston, 
Mr. Webster's address on the landing of the Pilgrims, Mr. 
Everett's Phi Beta Kappa Oration at Yale ; the articles in 
the Edinburg Keview, on the Lake school ; the Lady of the 
Lake ; Leckse on Government ; Alison on Taste ; Milton's 
recently discovered work ; in the Quarterly, on GifFord's 
Pitt, and the East India college at Hartford. These are 
but specimens : and I fear I do injustice to other writers 
and other articles of equal merit, by venturing this selection. 

I have said that elegance is properly a department of 
the philosophy of history. Let us now complete the depart- 
ment. The history of the institutions of society, of the 
structure and operations of government, and of literature, 
are embraced under this head. These branches are neces- 
sarily interwoven with history, and if this be written by 
able men, it contains abundant illustrations of those impor- 
tant particulars. But distinct works ought also to be 
studied, where they present noble views of the progress of 
events, or principles. For example, to name a few, Furgu- 
son on Civil Society, Stewart's View of Society in Europe, 
Villers on the Eeformation of Luther, Hallam's Middle 
Ages, Burke and Mcintosh on the French Kevolution, Hal- 
lam's Coup.titutional History of England, Brodie's exami- 
nation of Hume's errors, Adam Smith and Eicardo, Pitkin's 
Civil and Political History of the United States, the Fed- 
eralist, Story's large work on the Constitution, &c. 

The next subdivision of this fourth head leads me to the 



884 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

poets. Having rejected tlie classics, historians, and orators, 
the poets must share the same fate. And though I feel 
that I must expect to he denounced as a literary heretic, 
yet do I experience no compunction whatever in exchanging, 
as I do most cheerfully, Greek and Latin for English poetry. 
Whatever may he thought of the preference, I do not hesi- 
tate to hanish the one for the other. Instead of Homer 
and Virgil, I should take Paradise Lost and Eegained, Mil- 
man's Samor, and Southey's Eoderic, Marmion and the 
Lady of the Lake. The Georgics and Hesiod should give 
place to the Seasons, the Task, the Art of Preserving 
Health, the Pleasures of Imagination, and Childe Harold. 
For the Art of Poetry, I would suhstitute the Essay on 
Criticism, while the Satires of Horace, Juvenal and Per- 
sius, should yield to Cowper's moral poems, the Traveler 
and Deserted Village, the Essay on Man, and Boyse's Deity. 
The odes of Horace and Anacreon would he laid aside with- 
out reluctance, for a selection from the occasional poems of 
Byron, Hemans, Camphell, Wordsworth, Eogers, Moore, 
and others. If any one should remark that several modern 
poems are assigned to the vacant niche of one ancient poet, 
and should thence he disposed to infer the superiority of the 
classics, I take leave to say, that the conclusion is totally 
unfounded, in my opinion at least. For I do not douht, 
that the Paradise Lost is worth the Iliad, Odyssey and 
JEneid all together : there is more of suhlime, rich and 
beautiful descriptive poetry in Childe Harold, than in half 
a dozen Georgics : and Mrs. Hemans has written a greater 
number of charming little pieces, than are to be found in 
Horace and Anacreon. Besides, it ought to be considered 
tliat the time spent upon a hundred lines of a Latin poet, 
would enable you to master more thoroughly five hundred 
English verses. Nor let this be overlooked, that one hun- 
dred of the latter will produce a greater effect on the mind. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 385 

heart and taste, than the same iiumher of the former. 
This results from two considerations: 1. Because so large 
a portion of time and attention is unavoidably bestowed 
upon the meaning of words, and the gramatical construc- 
tion of sentences, that the great majority of those who 
study Greek and Latin, care little about and understand 
still less of the writer's thoughts. 2. Because Madame De 
Stael is certainly right when she says, that no one can per- 
fectly apprehend and relish the literature of a foreign lan- 
guage. This is the more true, precisely in proportion as 
the reader is unskilled in the language, and his mind unim- 
proved. How little the boys who study the boasted beauties 
of Homer and Virgil, of Horace, Pindar and Theocritus, can 
know about them, is intelligible to every one who has ever 
heard the best of them reciting in the classic poets. Per- 
haps it may be said, if this be true, still the modern poets 
are but imitators ; and therefore it is not wonderful, that 
these require five hundred lines to supply the place of a 
hundred of those. My study of the ancients and moderns 
has led to the conclusion, that there is as much originality 
among the moderns, as among the ancients. I do not 
agree with Voltaire in his paradox, that originality is noth- 
ing but judicious imitation. Such is indeed the originality 
of Virgil. But how much of the ancients do you find in 
Shakespeare, Milton and Byron? And where shall you 
look in classic poetry for the fountains of the Allegro and 
Penseroso ; of the Rape of the Lock and the Essay on Man ; 
of Marmion, and the Lady of the Lake ; of the Minstrel, 
Gertrude of Wyoming, Eimini, and the exquisite poems of 
Mrs. Hemans. 

From the department of ancient poetry, we pass to that 
of Pagan Ethics. But this has been already disposed of, 
under the head of religious education. 

5. The fifth subdivision of this second general division, 
88 



386 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

corresponds to the same head under the first. There, I 
objected to the existing scheme, because it has no direct 
and obvious tendency to create and loreserve the habit of in- 
tellectual improvement, and a love for reading. If 1 am 
right in the principles upon which I propose to substitute 
English and American for classic writers, then it can not 
be doubted for an instant that my system is incomparably 
better fitted to produce so desirable a result, than the 
present. Should any one question this, let him only look at 
the avidity with which boys read books of biography, his- 
tory, travels, poetry, fiction, in their own language, and 
contrast it with the reluctance or mechanical obedience, 
with which they study the classics. 

6. I have said under my first general division, that the 
sixth objection to the existing system of education is, that 
it does not furnish the discipline of mind ivhich the country 
stands in need of. If I have succeeded in demonstrating 
that position, I shall have left very little doubt that the 
principles of that argirment will lead without difliculty to 
the conclusion, that the plan which I am proposing is cal- 
culated to produce the very discipline of mind which the 
country needs. I have said, that the discipline wanted is 
that which is to be derived from the study of the human, not 
the material world : from the study of men and things, 
not of words and idioms. Now my scheme abounds in the 
moral materials, which are thus indispensable ; for they are 
found in the history and public and private biography, 
which fill so large a space. It is equally obvious that such 
works furnish also abundant exercise of mind, in the reflec- 
tions and reasonings of the writers, on the motives and actions 
of men : these, coupled with the writers in the departments 
of eloquence, and of the philosophy of history, give to the 
mind that very species of discipline^ which is so much needed 
in our country. 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 387 

7. My seventli subdivision leads me to provide a remedy 
for the neglect of the study of the English language. 1 
need hardly say, that I should not commence this study 
until the mind was so far opened and improved as to under- 
stand it on principles, and without the necessity of commit- 
ting rules to memory. Then it would be intelligible and 
delightful to the young mind. It would then be like taking 
a youth, when he could comprehend it, into an extensive and 
complex machine, and making him acquainted with the 
mutual relations and reciprocal actions of various parts. 
English grammar as now taught to children, is little better 
than a mere waste of time. This study should be contin- 
ued down to the latest period of education, terminating in 
those higher departments of grammar which are identical 
with philology, as in the Diversions of Purly, and with 
intellectual philosophy, as in Locke's Essay. 

8. The eighth objection stated, to existing plans of edu- 
cation, was, that they taught composition very imperfectly, 
and extempore speaking and conversation not at all. I 
need add nothing here to what has been already said un- 
der the corresponding head of the first general division. 
They would all hold in my system very prominent places, 
through large portions of it. 

9. The ninth defective feature in the present scheme was 
stated to be, that no pains were taken to require the pupils 
to speak good English, but that they were allowed continu- 
ally, in every stage of education, to speak ungrammatically. 
I need only say, that in my plan, it w^ould become an object 
of particular and unremitted attention, to insist on the 
greatest exactness in this respect. I should thus supersede 
by a perfectly natural, easy and efiicient process, the un- 
natural and useless attempt to teach the young to speak 
grammatically, by committing to memory a set of artificial 
rules, which have no more influence in teaching them to 



388 AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

speak correctly, than the study of lines, angles and curves 
had in teaching a boy to ride, swim or walk. 

I have thus shown you the schoolmaster as he w, and the 
schoolmaster as he ought to he, as discovered in things as they 
are, and in things as they should he. I trust that the free- 
dom with which I have spoken of existing schemes, of their 
lamentable deficiencies, and of the absolute necessity of thor- 
ough reformation, may not give offence. My object is to 
induce frequent and anxious reflection on the great ques- 
tion — " Is education what it should be ? " I feel that the 
course which my thoughts have taken on this subject, con- 
strain me to bring before the public of this country, from 
time to time, the important and interesting inquiry, " Ought 
education to be decidedly classical — decidedly mathematical ? 
Ought it not rather to be Christian, decidedly American ? 
Ought not these, not those, to occupy nine-tenths of the time 
of the young. If I have succeeded in leading even a few to 
think on these momentous topics, I shall not be without 
my reward. And, if I shall be able eventually to make 
a decided impression in favor of the views I have presented, 
on the common sense and intelligence of the educated in 
our country, I shall feel that the reward is more ample than 
the deserts of the laborer. Ours is emphatically a think- 
ing, reasoning country. The spirit of our institutions is 
full of the freedom and power of thought. It pervades 
every department of duty and business, whether public or 
private. To cultivate this spirit in himself, to promote it 
in others, is an obligation laid upon every citizen. Ho 
must expatriate himself, to be absolved from it. While he 
inhabits the home of independence in thought and reasoning, 
he can not shun the responsibility that is cast upon him. 
This is the universal law of American duty. It is imposed 
upon them by the highest and most solemn of all obligations, 
the Christian religion. It is commanded by the noblest 



AMERICAN EDUCATION. 889 

system of civil and political liberty that man has ever 
founded — the institutions of these United States. It is 
sanctioned by the enlightened common sense of the people ; 
by the genius of philosophy and the spirit of literature ; by 
the wisdom and experience of the statesman ; by the elo- 
quence of the orator. 



THE STUDY OF THE MODEEN LANGUAGES. 

BY J. F. MELINE. 



Mr. President and Gentlemen 

of the College of Teachers , 

The subject upon which I am invited to address you, 
involves so many topics of interest and of importance, that 
I can not here attempt more than to draw the attention of 
your enlightened body to some of the most prominent among 
them. Should I succeed in this, my object will be gained. 

The rapid extension of our commerce and of our diplo- 
matic relations, the increase of communication between this 
country and Europe, the high value of foreign literature, 
and the necessity we are under of seeking in it materials 
for the pursuit of several useful branches of scientific 
knowledge, are some of the inducements offered to your 
consideration, for the cultivation of the modern languages. 

Reason, enlightened by experience, has decided upon the 
study of language as an effectual means of disciplining the 
youthful mind. It gradually calls into active play a number 
of important faculties. It is an invigorating and healthful 
mental exercise, promoting habits of close attention and 
investigation. It requires exertion, without overtasking 
the intellect, and produces a practical knowledge of the 
general principles of philology. The translation of a 
phrase from a foreign tongue is required of a child : it is 
the solution of a problem at once mathematical and intel- 
lectual. The searching for and retention of the words 
(390) 



THE MODERN LANGUAGES. 391 

exercises his memory -the conception of the phrase, his 
powers of analo-y ;-he is, besides, forced into a critical 
analysis of the value of the expression he translates-and 
thus, grappling with the difficulties of two languages at 
the same time, he almost unconsciously developes the struct- 
ure and signification of his own in a manner that no precept 
could possibly do. A facility of thinking too, and a certain 
quickness of the imagination, are excited by this study— 
for the activity of the mind is constantly aroused by the 
exertion of some one of its finest attributes. Thus far for 
the mere purposes of early education. ^ ^ . . 

Once the grammatical principles of a foreign language 
acquired, the student is at the entrance of wide realms of 
learning. He has sown : let him reap. The riches of other 
tongues are within his reach. Let him not sit contentedly 
down with what his own language alone affords him. There 
are extensive foreign stores of varied erudition and senti- 
ment, which it would profit him not a little to contrast with 
what his vernacular possesses. 

There is in this community a sort of negative declaration 
of the utility of these studies ; judging from the space 
occupied by their anouncement in school and college courses. 
I say, negative,— for although their anouncement is an 
admission of their importance, more time is devoted to the 
perfect acquisition of some branch of— to say the least- 
doubtful benefit, than to a study which enables us to sym- 
pathize with the moral, political, and literary action of the 

European world. ^ ^ i • 

How far any change in the present modes of teaching 
the modern languages is necessary and compatible with 
the courses already adopted, the proper method of impart- 
incr them, together with many other considerations bearing 
up'on this subject, are matters that would, I respectfully 



392 THE STUDY OF THE 

submit, be best presented from a committee of professioual 
teachers appointed for the purpose. 

I proceed to offer a few observations on the situation of 
our literature. 

" The literature of other countries," says Sismondi, " has 
frequently been adopted by a young nation with a sort of 
fanatical admiration. The genius of those countries hav- 
ing been so often placed before it as the perfect model of 
all greatness and of all beauty, every spontaneous move- 
ment has been repressed in order to make room for the 
most servile imitation, and evpry rational attempt to 
develop an original character has been sacrificed to the 
re-production of something conformable to the model that has 
always been before its eyes." These remarks are pointedly 
applicable to the literature of the United States. It is not 
necessary here to indicate the model that has always been 
before our eyes — to dwell on the imitation, or to say how 
far originality has been sacrificed to the end that some- 
thing acceptable to the acknowledged prototype might be 
produced. 

It was most natural that, to a certain degree, we should 
fashion our style of composition, and adopt many ideas in 
arts and in literature, after the models in vogue in the 
country whence came our language. But it was not essen- 
tial — it is not expedient — that we should sit exclusively at 
the feet of English literature, and, watching her changing 
countenance, smile when she smiles, weep when she weeps, 
and applaud or condemn all the world beside, as her 
caprice or interest dictates. And have we not done so? 
And is it not true that, as a necessary consequence, we have 
become morbidly sensitive to all her opinions of us? It 
was said of Washington Irving that "he gasped for British 
popularity ;" and it may with justice be said of too many 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 393 

of his countrymen. It has happened, and more than once, 
that a really meritorious American work has not succeeded 
in dragging its slow length through a consumptive first 
edition, until the sunshine of a London Quarterly imparted 
it sufiicient vigor to reach the end of that, and to rush 
through five more. Books have fallen still-horn from our 
press, and lain buried in the dust of the publisher's garret, 
until an English legatur revealed their merits to our 
astonished vision. Every one knows the extent of trash 
that, in the guise of notes of British tourists in the United 
States, has been devoured among us ; while the very best 
w^ork on the country, " Letters on North America, by 
Michel Chevalier," still remains untranslated. De Tocque- 
ville, the Montesquieu of the age, has given us the ablest 
and most philosophic disquisition on our political organiza- 
tion we have, and yet nearly three years elapsed between 
its appearance in France and its reproduction in this 
country. Even then, we waited until it had been trans- 
lated and published in England. 

To such a length is this feeling forced that, in the eyes 
of some, there is neither excellence nor even mediocrity in 
any work from abroad not exclusively English. There is 
a bigotry in literature as well as in religion, and it 
behooves us to avoid that blind, serf-like obedience to the 
exclusive canons of any given school, that would shut out 
from us the light of excellence — come it whence it may. 
These persons insist that what is English is more congenial 
to us, and in introducing anything European into our 
literature, would, perhaps, feel what they take to be a 
patriotic scruple in thus admitting the stranger into the 
heart of our intellectual domain. Apart from the perfect 
confidence we should entertain of the native strength of 
our character, it should be remembered that in literature, 
as in philosophy, there is no native land but truth — and 



394 THE STUDY OF THE 

the question should not be, are such and such systems or 
sentiments Italian, or German, or French ? But, are they 
good ? Are they true ? Our literary liberality should 
resemble our political, and excellence from every quarter 
of the globe be welcomed and nationalized. I am happy 
to be enabled to cite, in support of these sentiments, the 
valuable opinion of Dr. Channing. " We earnestly recom- 
mend to our educated men,^^ he says, " a more extensive 
acquaintance with the intellectual labors of continental 
Europe. Our reading is too much confined to English 
books, and especially to the more recent publications of 
Great Britain. In this we err. We ought to know the 
different modes of viewing and discussing great subjects in 
different nations. We should be able to compare the writ- 
ings of the highest minds in a great variety of circum- 
stances. Nothing can favor more our own intellectual 
independence and activity. Let English literature be ever 
so fruitful and profound, we shall still impoverish ourselves 
by making it our sole nutriment. If our scholars would 
improve our literature, they should cultivate an intimacy 
not only with that of England, but of continental Europe.'' 

But it is not for the sake alone of avoiding exclusiveness 
that we should not confine ourselves to English literature, 
but because, in many leading departments of knowledge, 
the productions of the continental authors are of greater 
intrinsic value. In philosophy, to take a single example, 
there is more strength and originality in the writers of 
France and Germany, than in those of England. The 
places of Hobbes, and Bacon, and Cudworth, are better 
filled by Victor Cousin, Bon aid, and Schlegel. 

Of the modern languages, the French is the most 
generally studied and the most widely diffused. It is the 
received idiom of diplomacy, the medium of much of the 
commerce of Europe, the language of its courts and its 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 395 

elevated classes, and the conventional tongue of the trav- 
eller. Such are its advantages as a spoken language. 
In estimating its value by the amount of intellectual wealth 
it has brought to the common stock of human knowledge, 
it may be seriously questioned whether the claims of France 
yield to those of any nation. Her arms, her arts, her 
literature, have at different periods swayed the scepter of 
the universe, and we need not go far to find the traces of 
her domination. 

The connection France has had with England, her neigh- 
bor, and, in some respects, too powerful rival, has made us 
long familiar with the reputation of her brightest literary 
ornaments. Indeed, many of their works exert a strong 
influence on our education throughout its whole course — 
although they come to us through the dall medium of 
translation. The child dwells with delight on the fasci- 
nating pages of St. Pierre ; he catches his first glimpses 
of the glories of the old dynasties of which there rests 
but the name, through the instructive lectures of KoUin ; 
and the pathetic unction, the calm dignity of Fenelon lend 
their enchantment to the lessons of the mother, the pre- 
cepts of the instructor, and the exhortations of the divine. 
Buffon and Cuvier open to us the riches of the animal 
kingdom ; and Laplace, whose Mecanique Celeste is worthy 
a place by the side of Newton's Principia, reveals to our 
gaze the beauties of the celestial world. In the admirable 
Anacharsis of Barthelemy, we see and hear again the 
illustrious dead of ancient Greece. Malte Brun and Balbi 
teach us the world as it is ; the philosopher and the moralist 
discover rich mines of thought in Montaigne, La Bruyere, 
Pascal, and La Rochefoucault ; the political economist has 
a treasure in Say ; all nations have bowed to the genius of 
Montesquieu. In pulpit oratory they have given us the 
elevated elegance of Massillon, the dignified austerity of 



396 THE STUDY OF THE 

Bourdaloue, the sublime majesty of Bossuet. Lesage is a 
fund of humor, while Blaise Pascal, with his astonishing 
combination of genius for the mathematical sciences and 
the noblest faculties of the imagination, has left us a 
masterpiece in his " Thoughts.'' 

But my limits will not allow^ even an enumeration of 
what is most worthy of note in French literature. It was 
said, of old, " there is much unwritten w^i^dom." We may 
now say as truly, " there is more that is untranslated." 
In history alone, France has a number of classic works of 
rare merit, of which there are no English versions. Among 
them are Darn's History of Venice, De Barante's History 
of the Dukes of Burgundy, Anquetil's France, Ginguen^'s 
History of the Literature of Italy, Thier's History of the 
French Ke volution,* Michaud's History of the Crusades,* 
Sismondi's History of the French, Thierry's Conquest of 
England by the Normans,* and Sismondi's Italian Eepub- 
lics, of which last there is, I believe, an abridgement. 

In every branch of chemistry, the scientific world recog- 
nizes French talent as among the most highly endowed and 
most persevering. The successors of Lavoisier, Fourcroy, 
and Berthollet, continue by their inestimable labors to 
maintain the high eminence which they so justly won. 

The productions of the French jurists have poured a 
flood of light on great legal questions, and, independently 
of Pothier, portions of whose works have been repeatedly 
translated, and who is authority in our courts, we remark 
the opinions of nineteen of their writers on jurisprudence, 
cited by Judge Story in one his late valuable works. 

The cultivator of the exact sciences finds his studies 
abridged and simplified by the treatises of Bourdon, 



** Since the delivery of this address translations of these works have 
been announced. 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 397 

Legendre, Biot, and Lacroix. The labors of the French 
mathematicians, it is generally conceded, are unsurpassed 
either for the importance of their researches or the brilliancy 
of their results. Indeed in such high value arc they held 
in the institution* in which the mathematics are in this 
country the most successfully and thoroughly taught, that 
the mathematical recitations are in French. 

To the physician, in particular, a sufficient knowledge of 
this language to read it with facility, is of the utmost im^ 
portance. The high reputation of the Parisian schools of 
medicine, and of their professors, is no ficticious one. 
Everything appertaining to the medical and surgical arts 
is there cultivated with a zeal and success unsurpassed only 
by the talent that adorns them. In Pathology, we have no 
works in the English language to compare with theirs — 
and in many other departments, their translated treatises 
are the leading text books of a majority of our schools. 
Eicherand, Bichat, Lsennec, Louis, Dupuytren, Andral, 
Broussais, are but a few of their eminent professors of the 
healing art, whose reputations are already coextensive with 
civilization. 

To philosophy, the brilliant Cousin has given an attrac- 
tion unprecedented in the annals of metaphysics. 

Chateaubriand, Lamartine, and Victor Hugo, are well 
known as the present ornaments of her polite literature, 
while for solidity of acquirement, elevation of talent, and 
the high moral tendency given to both these endowments, 
I know no greater names belonging to the nineteenth cen- 
tury, than Thierry, Villemain, and Guizot. 

The German is the tongue of more than forty millions 
of people. It yields to no living language in energy and 

** The National Military Academy. 



898 THE STUDY OF THE 

wealth. Its literature is most prolific, and to the theolo- 
gian, the historian, and the classical student precious — I 
might say — indispensable. Germany is remarkable for 
her eminent scholars, critics and archaeologists. She 
started late, 'tis true, in the race for intellectual distinction, 
but has overtaken her competitors with gigantic strides. 

I would appeal to her example as a strong argument for 
the cultivation of foreign literature. It is, in fact, through 
a similtaneous effort on the part of her scholars to repro- 
duce, in their own tongue, the masterpieces of other lan- 
guages, that the German has acquired its wonderful rich- 
ness and flexibility. On this account it is essentially the 
language of translation. Hear the opinion of one who 
wields it with magic power — Goethe : " The English are 
quite right in applying themselves so diligently as they 
have recently done, to the German language. It is not 
only that our language on its own account deserves this 
attention, but it is also impossible to deny, that he who now 
knows German well, may dispense with the knowledge of 
almost every other language. I do not here include the 
French, for that is the language of conversation, and is 
indispensable as a universal interpreter to every gentleman 
who moves beyond the four corners of his own home. It 
is a peculiarity of the German mind to give its due and 
natural value to what is foreign, and to accomodate itself 
to the particular character of every kind of national 
poetry. This, taken along with the great power and 
flexibility of our tongue, renders German translations as 
perfect in the whole as they are accurate in the detail.'' 

The poets of all countries are, for Germany, faithfully 
rendered, not only in thought and in style, but in their 
own peculiar measure and cadence. The great dramatic 
poet of Spain, and the four poets of Italy, have been 
repeatedly reprinted and translated. Thanks to the labors 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 399 

of Schiller, Schlegel, Voss, and Wieland, Shakespeare is as 
much Shakespeare for Vienna and Berlin, as he is for 
London. They have analyzed him with as great success as 
his own countrymen. Of Lord Byron they have several 
versions, and the ablest disquisition upon his character and 
writings, by their own poet Goethe. The productions of 
Scott, of Cooper, of Franklin, of Washington Irving, and 
of Story, are not only familiar to their men of letters, but, 
both in reprints and translations, are as widely circulated 
there as at home. 

Germany has studied and appropriated the works of 
antiquity and of her cotemporaries, and still watches as nar- 
rowly and profits as much by the writings of all the rest of 
Europe as though she depended upon them for her intellec- 
tual nutriment. And yet what literature has more native 
soul and independence. So the monarch of rivers flows 
on, his wave swelled but not changed, his tide deepened 
by the streams received on his course. 

Contrast the English labors with the German, in the 
reciprocal cultivation of their literatures. When you have 
enumerated the translation of a few fugitive pieces by Scott, 
Coleridge, and Taylor, the list is nearly complete of what 
they have taken from the extensive stores of her polite 
letters. With her scientific productions we are, I believe, 
more familiar, although we do not sufficiently apply to the 
language to avail ourselves of its treasures. 

The study of Biblical criticism is enriched by the works 
of Scholz, Eichhorn, Schleiermacher, Voland, Jahn, and 
Molitor, who have created a new era, not only in Biblical 
literature, but in the philosophy of history. Her classical 
scholars have finished and extended the researches of the 
Italian commentators. The most remarkable among them 
is Wolff, who has with great success advocated the claims 
of classical antiquity as a separate branch of learning. 



400 THE STUDY OF THE 

He has infused new life into Homer, and Plato, and 
Tacitus, and molded them into the plastic styles of his 
own rich vernacular. Niebuhr has discovered a new world 
in the history of Kome. Wincklemann has disinterred for 
us the glories of antiquity from the dust of ages. The 
student of Hebrew recognizes in Gesenius the living head 
of that language, while Von Hammer, after the profound 
French scholar Silvestre de Sacy, is unsurpassed in oriental 
philology. 

Germany possesses a great number of original minds in 
every department of her literature. They are distin- 
guished for patient investigation, acute criticism, and 
lucid expression. They are the 

" deep and slow, exhausting thouglit, 



And hiving -wisdom with each studious year." 

Theirs is the devoted spirit of scientific research. In their 
works we find that finish, that thoroughness, so different 
from the fondness for dazzling novelty, and the thin erudi- 
tion of our Family Library philosophy. 'Tis among them 
we remark so many striking examples of devotion to 
science in men, many of them now the luminaries of their 
fatherland, who have spent years of their early life in 
utter obscurity — laboring, mining in the cells of gathered 
wisdom, unencouraged by the smiles of public favor, or 
the flattery of a coterie, supported solely by a pure love of 
their study, and the hope that, some day, the result of 
their investigations might discharge the debt they deemed 
their country's. 'Tis there, in fine, we will feel in every 
page, that inspiration of all the kindlier feelings, that 
redundancy of charity, that elevation of the simplicity of 
the heart, which is too effectually crushed in our practical, 
money-getting age. 

And is this seriousness of pursuits, this singleness of 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 401 

devotion, this simplicity of soul, tins solidity of acquire- 
ment, adorned by no gem of poetry — brightened by no 
fire of eloquence? In the sublimity of Klopstock, the bril- 
liancy of Kant, the noble patriotism of Uhland, the glow- 
ing beauty of Schiller, the veneration of Novalis, the 
elevated purity of Tieck, the versatility of Goethe, the 
child-like piety of Eichter, the polished enthusiasm of 
Schlegel — ^you will find an answer. 

Small as is the attention bestowed upon the languages 
whose claims upon our admiration I have thus feebly 
endeavored to set forth, that given to the Italian is still 
less. We yield it all the credit it deserves as the most 
beautiful and musical of tongues, and, apparently, care not 
to be informed that it possesses merits of a more solid 
nature. Indeed, from the indifference manifested concern- 
ing its literature we might be led to imagine it had none. 

*' Criticism," says the London and Westminster Review ^ 
*' is usually silent on the literature of Italy, or if it speaks, 
mentions her only to repeat, in worn out phrases, a feeble 
mockery of gratitude toward the country which first trod 
the path we all have followed." 

It was the blaze of her genius that first broke the intel- 
lectual night of the Dark Ages, and the labors of her pro- 
found philologists that restored to light the buried litera- 
ture of antiquity. Villani originated literary history, the 
Philosopher of Pisa founded the present system of physics 
and astronomy, Amalfi was the cradle of jurisprudence. 
She rekindled, in short, the slumbering fires of civiliza- 
tion, and the names of her statesmen, her w^arriors, her 
poets, are among the brightest on the rolls of fame. 

Look back upon the literary annals of the now living 
nations. Contemplate the thousands and tens of thousands 
34 



402 THE STUDY OF THE 

who have struggled for that most unattainable of earthly 
glories — universal reputation ! Of them all, how many 
have reached it ? The enumeration is short, and easily 
made. England claims two, Shakespeare and Milton ; 
France two, Corneille and Eacine ; Spain one, Cervantes ; 
Portugal one, Camoens ; Italy four, Dante, Petrarch, Tasso, 
Ariosto. The voice of the present day, that upholds their 
claims to this high eminence, is the echo of bygone ages, 
and if it be true, as Chateaubriand asserts, that there are 
to be no more universal literary reputations, Italy might 
rest content with the trophies she has already won in the 
field of letters. 

In civil and political history, her writers have gained 
their greenest laurels. Greece produced but five great 
historians ; Eome not so many ; England, intellectually 
rich as she is, did not, eighty years since, possess one 
worthy of being ranked with the first masters ; while Italy 
already boasted of a Macchiavelli, a Guicciardini, a Sarpi, 
a Davila, and a Bentivoglio — each a model. Nor is it 
of their countrymen alone they have won the sufi*rages. 
Bolingbroke compares Davila with Livy, and accords to 
Guicciardini a higher rank than to Thucydides ; and 
Gibbon says, that Guicciardini, Macchiavelli, Sarpi, and 
Davilla are justly reputed the first historians of modern 
Europe. At the present day she has Compagnoni, who has 
written the history of the entire New World, and Botta, 
who has completed that of his own country commenced by 
Guicciardini, and has given us one of the best, certainly 
the most impartial, account of our own war of independ- 
ence. 

The literature of any language may be safely challenged 
to produce an equal amount of beautifully inspired Lyric 
poetry, as enriches the Italian. Here Italy is without a 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 403 

rival. Her favorite Lyric bard is Filicaja. He has quaffed 
deep draughts both of Helicon and of 

" Siloa^s "brook that flowed 



Fast by the oracle of God." 

He combines energy, sweetness, pathos, and more nearly 
approaches the language of inspiration than any poet — in 
our own tongue at least. The fervid strain of patriotism 
in the fourth Canto of Childe Harold is a literal translation 
of one of his sonnets. Lord Byron thus renders it: 

" Italia ! oh Italia ! thou who hast 
The fatal gift of beauty, which became 
A funeral dower of present woes and past, 
On thy sweet brow is sorrow ploughed by shame, 
And annals graved in characters of flame. 

Oh God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness 
Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim 
Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press 
To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress : 
Then might'st thou more appal ; or, less desired, 
Be homely and be peaceful, undeplored 
For thy destructive charms ; then, still untired, 
Would not be seen the armed torrents pour'd 
Down the deep Alps ; nor would the hostile horde 
Of many nationed spoilers from the Po 
Quaff blood and water ; nor the stranger's sword 
Be thy sad weapon of defense, and so, 
Victor or vanquished, thou the slave of friend or foe. 

The Italian is the mother tongue of the poetry of 
Europe, and in it all nations have found imperishable 
models of excellence. The obligations to it, of English 
literature in particular, are neither slight nor few. Chau- 
cer, who passed some time with Petrarch, in Padua, has 
transfused much of the taste of Laura's lover into his own 
*' poesie,'' and several of the finest among his Canterbury 
tales are taken from Boccacio. The plots of many of 



404 THE STUDY OF THE 

Shakespeare's plays, and in some cases, whole scenes, as in 
AlFs Well that Ends Well, and in Cjmbeline, also come 
from the Italian. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, released 
English poetry from the forms of the ]\Iiddlo Ages, and 
imitated Petrarch's sonnets with such success that the taste 
for them became general. Spencer copied the form and 
spirit of their poetical compositions, as his " Faery Queene '' 
plainly shows. Wyatt and the Wartons acknowledge their 
obligations to the Italian. Dryden, too, has borrowed from 
Boccacio. Who has not dwelt long and rapturously on the 
first lines of Gray's beautiful elegy ? They are translated 
from a stanza of Dante. Milton owes much to Tasso and 
to his brother poets, and expresses himself to that effect in 
several passages of his works. Byron, too, has freely 
scattered gems from Pulci, and Berni, and Ariosto, over 
his own luxuriant lano-uaw. 

The belief that the Italian, with all its grace, is want- 
ing either in conciseness or energy, is an erroneous one. 
It retains the vigor of the Latin inversions, with the fur- 
ther advantage of more licenses of contraction than any 
modern language admits of. Dante and Alfieri abound in 
passages of unsurpassed compactness, and, where descrip- 
tion needs it, of grating harshness. In the opinion of Sis- 
mondi, Csesarotti's poetic translation of Ossian is superior 
to the English prose, and the Italian version of Tacitus, 
the most sententious of historians, is condensed into a 
smaller compass than the original. There is, moreover, in 
their scientific compositions, a vigor and chasteness equally 
removed from a fondness for flimsy hypothesis and the 
unprofitable repetition of mere facts. It displays a con- 
s-taut elegance, and ing'cnuity of an elevated cast, joined 
with rare perseverance in the combination of details. 
*' Nothing," says Lord Brougham, "can be conceived, more 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 405 

perfectly rigorous, and at the same time more simple and 
elegant, than the geometrical investigations of the Italian 
mathematics. '^ 

The subjects left unfinished by Newton have been pur- 
sued by the Italian philosophers with an ardor unsurpassed 
even by his talented successors in England. The works 
of Beccaria, and of Compare tti, contain discoveries, and 
materials for discoveries, as important to those who follow 
them as was the great work of Grimaldi to Sir Isaac 
Newton himself. Benjamin Franklin had the works of 
Beccaria translated into English, and Priestly contended, 
that the value of his labors in electricity far surpassed all 
that had been done before and after him. 

In the prosecution of her scientific inquiries, Italy, like 
her neighbors, has availed herself of that mighty moral 
engine — association. Florence, Rome, Bologna, Turin, 
Padua, Verona, all have their academies of science, inde- 
pendently of a multitude of minor institutions and societies. 
The researches and transactions of these bodies are pub- 
lished at great expense, and with exceeding regularity, at 
stated periods. The memoirs of the Italian Society of 
Verona form the most valuable collection among them, and 
they are frequently referred to by the English and French 
mathematicians as high authority. 

Italian literature of the present day is full of interest. 
Of the host of continental imitators who sprung up on the 
path struck out by Sir AValter Scott, Manzoni and Grossi 
are among the most distinguished. Indeed, Manzoni's 
*' Promessi Sposi '^ may not shrink from a comparison with 
the happiest efforts of the ** Ariosto of the North." Nor 
have they fallen short of their model in attaining a healthy, 
manly style. They have not labored to reproduce the sick- 
ening horrors that fill the ultra-romantic novels of which 
we have too many in English. Their characteristics, and 



406 THE STUDY OF THE 

that of the school of which they are the head, are, a deep- 
rooted antipathy to the principle of aristocracy, an ardent 
patriotism, and a high moral tone, heautified and set forth 
in all the richness of their musical language. Guerazzi's 
Siege of Florence, a late publication, " has life enough," 
says an English critic, " for fifty novels, and poetry enough 
for five poems.'' 

I can not here omit a few remarks on the beautiful work 
of Silvio Pellico. It is the narrative of his imprisonment, 
related hy himself in language redolent of a gentle though 
eloquent simplicity, that presents a refreshing contrast with 
the convulsionary charnel-house literature under which the 
French and English presses groan. 

Pellico is the great modern dramatic poet of Italy. In 
1820, his tragedy of Francesca da Eimini had just been 
received with a frenzy of enthusiasm, from the borders of 
the Alps to the shores of Sicily. He was laboring in con- 
cert with the aristocracy of national genius and acquire- 
ment, all sanguine in the success of their country's social 
reinstatement. He was enjoying the friendship of Schlegel, 
of Monti, Foscolo, Brougham, and Byron. Imagine him 
thus, in the vigor of youth, in the first blush of fame, torn 
from friends, home, and country, and sentenced to endure, 
under " the Leads " of Venice, and in the dungeons of 
Spielberg, that most dreadful of earthly calamities — hope- 
less, solitary imprisonment. Surely, we might say, the 
victim of such tyranny, on breathing again the free air 
of heaven, with his foot on his ** native heath," would 
pour forth his eloquence in cries of malediction and ven- 
geance against his oppressors ! He has poured forth his 
eloquence, but 'tis that of a heart o'errunning with all 
that is mildest, kindliest, godliest in our nature. There 
are tears for his brethren in chains, prayers for his jailors, 
forgiveness for his persecutors. In tones of subdued agony, 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 407 

that resemble the melancholy music of some imprisoned 
bird, he recounts the sufferings, longings, hopes, of his 
damp cell. There is no repining, no incoherent raving. 
They are the glowing outpourings of a soul animated by 
all that is noble in patriotism, elevated in philosophy, 
most admirable in Christianity. Such is the book of Silvio 
Pellico. The English version of it, by Roscoe, conveys no 
idea of the spirit of the original. Neither its elevation 
nor its delicacy is reproduced — while whole pages are 
omitted. 

Of the literatures of Portugal and Spain, I have but 
little to say. The Portuguese is a contraction of the Cas- 
tilian, and bears to it nearly the same degree of resem- 
blance as the language of Holland does to that of Ger- 
many. It is comparatively unimportant as a tongue of 
communication, and its literature possesses no attractions 
— if we except the Lusiad of Camoens, an epic that has 
immortalized its author and his nation. It is related of 
Erasmus that he studied the Portuguese for the sole pur* 
pose of reading the comedies of Gil Vicente — a writer v/ho 
preceded the great dramatic authors of France and Eng- 
land. If the merit of any Portuguese work can, at the 
present day, offer a similar inducement, it is certainly the 
Lusiad. 

The Spanish is of importance as the language of a 
still great European power, of a large portion of South 
America, several of the principal East and West India 
islands, Guatemala and Mexico. It is sonorous and majes- 
tic, and, partaking of the nature of its elements, lias 
somewhat of Latin dignity, and Arabic ornament. Its 
literature, although deficient in many branches, is enriched 
with the masterly productions of Garcilaso de la Vega, 
Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Quevedo, and Calderon. 



408 THE STUDY OF THE 

The literature of a people is a vivid reflection of its 
political and social life. Its study is to tlie intellect a 
species of foreign travel, and through it we make ourselves 
acquainted with the most striking national peculiarities, 
and thus liberalize our views. 

But why not, it is asked, profit by what is most valuable 
in foreign literature by means of translations ? 1 believe 
it was Cervantes who said, that translations bear the same 
resemblance to the original, as does the wrong side of 
tapestry to the right. The outlines, the leading features, 
are indeed there, but lacking the exquisite grace, the 
softened finish of the picture. Kead an English or any 
version of the Greek or Koman classic authors, and although 
the deadening medium of translation has been vivified by 
the genius and erudition of nearly two thousand years, 
although enthusiastic scholars in all enlightened nations 
have vied with each other in illustrating and enriching them 
with commentaries, where is their fire, their melody, their 
grace ? 

But, without stopping to particularize the difiiculties of 
translation from a foreign tongue, which are sufiiciently 
appreciated by all who have ever rendered a page from any 
language into their own, we should consider that we can 
not by that means alone keep pace with the intellectual 
advancement of Europe. The mass of important works is 
too great, and we would unquestionably find it an economy 
of time and labor to possess ourselves at once of at least 
one of the leading modern languages. 

Periodical literature has done much, of late, to maintain 
the moral communication of nations. The brightest orna- 
ments of modern letters have enriched its pages with their 
best efforts. In France, Villemain, Chateaubriand, Guizot, 
Cousin. In England, Scott, Brougham, Wilson, Carlyle. 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 409 

In Ital}^, Eomagnosi, Di Lucca, Pellico. In Germany, 
Uliland, Heeren, Sclilegel. In the United States, Story, 
Channing, Everett, Flint, and many others. The periodical 
press is to literature what the steam engine is to com- 
merce. Time was when great men flourished, and faded, 
and were forgotten, in their own country, while beyond its 
limits their names were never heard. Facts and dis- 
coveries in anything relating to our material wants, the 
interchange of the commodities and luxuries of life, travel 
with all the rapidity that modern art can procure, while 
the thoughts that breathe, and the words that burn, of the 
poet, the industrious research of the historian and the 
philologist, the systems of the philosopher, take years, 
aye, ages, to pass the mountains or seas that sejDarate 
them from other climes. The fact, the physical discovery, 
is obvious, tangible. The outpourings of eloquence are 
imprisoned in the niceties of a language understood but 
by few. 

When Bruce, the traveler, was in the depths of the 
deserts of Abyssinia, untrodden before him by the foot of 
European, he gave to a chief of the country, in recompense 
for some services rendered him, a bill of exchange on a 
merchant in Encrland. The savao-e took it — sold it to a 
return caravan. On it passed, through the hands of the 
Nubian, the Egyptian, the Bedouin, the African, the Italian, 
the Spaniard, to the exchange of the great metropolis. It 
met with no delay, it needed no interpreter. And why ? 
It was in the Arabic numeral, the language of lucre, the 
universal tongue ; all understood it ! Can genius in like 
manner wake up and put into action the intellectual riches 
that lie dormant throughout the nations of the earth ? 
He lifts up his voice and shouts aloud. Alas ! the echo 
that should ring from land to land, and from people to 
35 



410 THE STUDY OF THE 

people, falls dead within the narrow contines of his own 
hearing. 

It is in this that physical science has more advantages 
than literature. She has her hundreds of associations, her 
thousands of voices, ready to repeat and re-echo every step 
of her march. If it were necessary to illustrate this, weigh 
for a moment the comparative merits of those whose names 
are stamped on sciences that will bear down their glory to 
the end of time, and of those whose memories are moldering 
in the columns of some forgotten biographical dictionary. 

Who has not heard of Copernicus ? Who has heard of 
his countryman Casimir, whose productions are worthy the 
palmy days of Eome, and whose Latin poetry Grotius ranks 
above that of Horace. The names of those Italians who 
created eras in the history of philosophy, and the universe, 
are as familiar to our ears as household words : Volta, 
Galvani, Americus Yespuccius, Christopher Columbus. But 
who knows aught of the humble Portuguese missionary who 
wrote one hundred and thirty works, one of which was a 
translation of the Scriptures in the Chinese, the most diffi- 
cult of all languages, and that too with a purity and force 
of diction unsurpassed by their classical authors. 

Shakespeare's name was unheard of in France until the 
days of Voltaire ; and in England, what was known of 
German poetry before Sir Walter Scott^s translation of 
Goetz Yon Berlichingen ? 

There is a change in the spirit of this matter, and, 
thanks to the efforts of the periodicals, the heretofore too 
slow interchange of taste and intellect is becoming rapidly 
promoted. Our own do much to keep us advised of the 
transatlantic literary movement, and in the capitals of 
Europe, reviews are published having for their sole object 
the representation of foreign literature. 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 411 

And here the reflection is naturally suggested that, in 
other times, when such a facility of extending knowledge 
did not exist, and men were hemmed in their narrow homes 
by war and by tyranny, many a glorious discovery, and 
many an intellectual triumph was lost sight of, or descended 
with its possessor into the tomb. The world mourns the 
loss of many masterpieces of antiquity. If all were known, 
we might have equal cause to make the same lament over 
much that is valuable, in comparatively modern litera- 
ture. 

On the damp walls of a deserted convent in Milan are 
the remains of the far-famed painting of the Last Supper. 
Upon this exquisite picture, still beautiful in its ruins, 
thousands have gazed with mingled wonder and delight. 
Upon it has heretofore rested the reputation of Leonardo 
Da Vinci. 

Late historical researches present this enthusiastic artist 
to us in the novel light of a bold speculator in the highest 
regions of philosophy. Hallam, the historian, clearly 
proves in his last work,'-' that not only the discoveries that- 
afterward immortalized Galileo, and Kepler, and Castelli, 
but the system of Copernicus, and even the theories of 
recent geologists, are anticipated by Da Vinci with a dis- 
tinctness that strikes us ** with something like the awe of 
preternatural knowledge." At a period when dogmatism 
prevailed, he laid down the grand principle afterward 
advanced by Bacon, that " experiment and observation must 
be the guides to just theory in the investigation of nature." 
He further speaks of the earth's annual motion in such a 
manner as to show that it was the received opinion of many 
of the philosophers of his age, (1444 — 1519.) 

There are many other facts of a similar tendency. 

* " Introduction to the Literature of Europe," vol. i, p. 303. 



412 THE STUDY OF THE 

In the Ducal palace at Venice is preserved a map con- 
structed by one Bianco, in 1436, on whioh is laid down, in 
the Atlantic, a large island marked " Brazil/' And 
Muratori, the historian, proves that Brazil wood was 
entered among* the taxable articles at the gates of Modena, 
as early as 1306.f What are we to argue from these 
things? And what more probable hypothesis do they 
support than that greater bights had been scaled in science, 
and more progress made in literature, than the records of 
history teach us ? 

The difficulty of acquiring the languages we have spoken 
of is, I believe, much exaggerated. The English partakes 
partly of the Latin, partly of the Teutonic stock, from 
which, singly or conjointly, the principal languages of 
Europe have sprung. The acquirement of the French 
demands no remarkable exertion on the part of the student. 
To him who has mastered it, the addition of the Italian 
or Spanish to his knowledge, is the labor of but a few 
months. I mean, of course, a sufficient acquaintance with 
it to read it with profit and facility. That critical know- 
ledge of a foreign tongue which enables us to speak and 
write it with ease and correctness, is the labor of years. 
Nevertheless, literary history teems with the names of 
those who have conquered the difficulties and appreciated 
the delicacies of lano-uao^es not their own. 

Milton's Italian sonnets are composed with such purity 
that they are still admired in Italy. Had Lord Byron 
never written any thing but his translation of Pulci's 
Morgante Maggiore, he would yet have gone down to 
posterity as the creator of a perfect model of translation. 

* " Wiseman's Lectures on the connection between Science and Revealed 
Eeligion." p. 86. 



MODERN LANGUAGES. 418 

Yoitiire, a French poet, composed in Spanish and Italian ; 
so finished were his Spanish verses that they were ascribed 
to the pen of Lope de Vega. Goidoni, the Moliere of Italy, 
wrote comedies in French, which, after a lapse of seventy 
years still maintain themselves on the stage. Gibbon's 
first literary effort was in French ; and Beckford, at the 
age of seventeen, wrote *' Caliph Vathek " in the same 
language. Ohlenschlager, a Dane, is among the most 
distinguished dramatic writers of Germany. 

The poet Milton was master of eight languages, the 
younger Scaliger of thirteen, Erasmus Eask, the boast of 
Danish literature, of twenty-five. Sir William Jones of 
twenty-eight. Of Mezzofanti, probably the greatest living 
linguist, Byron says, " He is a monster of languages, the 
Briaraeus of parts of speech, a walking Polyglott, who 
ought to have existed at the time of the tower of Babel, as 
universal interpreter. I tried him in all the tongues of 
which I knew anything, and he astounded me — even to my 
own English.'' 

Extensive acquirements of this nature are frequently 
matter of astonishment, for which there is no occasion, if 
we reflect that all languages have a common stock, which, 
though presenting differences in some of its classes, still 
retain a very strong analogy. 

I have thus endeavored to set forth the importance of 
the study of modern languages, both as a mental discipline, 
and as the means of arriving at much that is valuable in 
modern science. Those acquainted with the branches of 
foreign literature I have referred to, will readily perceive 
that nothing more than a meagre outline has been 
attempted, and those who promise themselves their study, 
will soon discover that the half, nay, the tithe, has not been 
told them. 

Steam, the mighty propagandist of the age, has lent its 



414 THE STUDY OF THE 

herculean powers to the task, and, unaided hy the still 
greater improvements announced by men of science, has 
shown that it will effectually bridge the Atlantic. Nations 
are rushing up to nations ; there will be intercommunica- 
tion of unexampled frequency and rapidity, and, in the 
words of a late writer, " Nations, races, continents will 
stand in the same relation. They will, let us hope, throw 
their muskets and their bows and arrows behind them, and 
approach each other ; a thousand prejudices will be given 
up, and a thousand fresh ties of interest and influence arise 
betw^ecn them, as seeing, at length, eye to eye, they take 
each other by the hand, and swear that henceforth the 
crude, puerile, and savage ignorance, indifference, aliena- 
tion, or hostility of other ages shall be no more." 



THE ADVANTAGES OP A DEPARTMENT OP 
ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN 
COLLEGES. 

BY B. P. AIDELOTT, D. D. 



There is not, we believe, in any of our colleges, nor in 
tliose of tlie motlier country, a department of English 
Language and Literature. One we have known projected, 
hut it was never efficiently prosecuted, and has since, we 
believe, come to naught. 

We are aware of the existence of Professorships of Rhe- 
toric and Belles Lettres ; but these are either too narrow, 
and do not cover the whole ground, or they are made, in 
actual operation, so comprehensive, by the addition of Logic, 
or History, or Moral, Intellectual or Political Philosophy, 
or all of these, as to reduce the subject of English Lan- 
guage and Literature to comparative insignificance. 

But before proceeding further, it is proper to explain 
clearly and fully what we mean by a department of English 
Language and Literature. Let it then, we say, be as 
extensive as the most liberal but just interpretation of the 
terms will admit. But to be particular, let it embrace the 
origin and structure of our language, its progress, its means 
and modes of growth, its peculiarities, the signification of 
its words and their various shades of difference, its correct 
and graceful utterance in reading and speaking, and its 
various kinds of style, with the several advantages and 
(415) 



416 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

beauties of each, as exhibited in the sacred desk, in the 
Senate, and at the bar, in conversation and epistolary- 
writing, in the different kinds of history, in controversy 
and philosophic discussion, in the grave and light essay, 
and in poetry in all its varieties. It should comprehend, 
in a word, the history, gra7nmar and criticism of the 
language. 

Such a department might, therefore, properly be termed 
the Professorship of English Philology. 

Let the student, while faithfully pursuing the different 
subjects embraced in this course, b-^ required to write much 
and variously, till he can turn with ease from the light and 
epistolary to the grave and argumentative, and exhibit a 
like freedom in rhetorical and narrative composition. 

Having now explained what we think ought to constitute 
the department of English Language and Literature, we 
propose in this discourse to show some of the advantages 

WHICH WE BELIEVE WOULD RESULT FROM ITS ESTABLISHMENT 
AND FAITHFUL PROSECUTION IN OUR COLLEGES GENERALLY. 

I. Would it not greatly tend to improve and fix our 
language ? 

The student in this department would, of course, make 
himself master not only of the grammar of our tongue, 
but of general or philosophical grammar. He would go 
also to the classic pages of Milton, Dryden, Taylor, Barrow, 
Addison, Pope, and, above all, to our noble version of the 
Bible, and there drink deeply into the fountains of pur© 
English style. The sources of our tongue, its genius, its 
changes, its peculiar excellencies and defects, its vast capa- 
bilities, would thus be spread before him. 

Such study, deep and persevering, combined with diligent 
practice in the different species of composition, must give 
him a mastery of the subject, which no other training could 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 417 

confer; and with tliese liigli advantiigos, would not taste, 
and gratitude, and a laudable ambition constrain liim to 
labor to remove the defects, and to cultivate all the excel- 
lencies of the lano;uao;e ? 

When, then, our educated men have generally passed 
through such a course as this, we may reasonably expect to 
behold our mother tongue attain to that improvement and 
stability which the venerable patriarchs of our literature 
desired to see, but died without the sight. It is not a few 
men of learning and taste, here and there, that can perfect 
and fix a nation's lano;uaoe. There must be the combined 
efforts of multitudes, of various talents and pursuits, all 
contributing their offerings to this common treasury. 

But is it not a fact that our brightest students are too 
often deplorably ignorant here? They will consume the 
midnight oil over the pages of Lucretius and Livy, of 
Homer and Demosthenes, and concentrate every power of 
thought upon the demonstrations of Mathematics, and 
search with avidity into every department of the physical 
sciences ; wdiile attention to their ow^n language is nearly- 
confined to the drudgery of the first form, and only renewed 
in those few moments of leisure, and with that superficial 
haste which the other subjects of college class will now 
permit. 

It ought not, therefore, to surprise us to find so many 
works of modern science admirable for their profundity of 
research and strength of argument, but clothed in a style 
not only devoid of all elegance, but deformed with gross 
inaccuracies. Great is the love of learning which urges 
the reader on through the perplexing grammatical blun- 
ders, and heavy uncouth periods of such authors. Doubt- 
less many are driven back in disgust ; they prefer ignorance 
to knowledge at such a price. 



418 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

And are not the poverty and deformity of much of our 
modern literature owing to a superficial acquaintance with 
our language? How often do w^e see, in the prose and 
poetry of this day, really great vigor and comprehension of 
mind, and lofty genius, trammelled and besoiled by their own 
scanty and mean habiliments. Familiarity with the classics 
of their mother tono-ue would have taught these waiters to 
avoid their faults, and imitate their excellencies, and press 
forward with a purer ardor toward perfection. But with 
too little of the good of former authorship, they exhibit 
more than all of its defects. Such men of letters do much 
to corrupt and change the language ; but they contribute 
little to improve and fix it. 

And does not the wide diffusion of our language tend to 
corrupt it ? It bids fair to become the universal tongue. 
*' It is,^^ says a recent traveler, "the predominant language 
among all those whose society travelers fall into from the 
Ehine to Norway." Indeed, it is spoken quite extensively 
in every civilized nation, and has been planted among 
nearly every barbarous people. The commercial and Chris- 
tian enterprise of England and the United States has car- 
ried their speech to the very ends of the earth. It has 
thus encompassed the globe, and is rapidly difi'using itself 
in all directions. 

But as our language recedes from its great centers — 
England and the United States — its danger of foreign 
admixture increases ; and the continual tendency of these 
corruptions is to flow back and taint the fountains them- 
selves. 

Now in what other w^ay can we counteract this evil and 
protect ourselves, than by keeping the springs pure, and 
continually sending forth streams of unadulterated English, 
through every channel of communication ? If this be not 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 419 

done, instead of snbduing all nations to onr tongue, it will 
itself be overwhelmed and lost amid the floods which arc 
setting in upon us from every quarter.* 

The tendency of the immense immigration from all parts 
of the world into our country, is too obvious to need remark. 
It has excited the anxious attention of the patriot, as 
imperiling our free institutions ; and of the Christian, as 
dangerous to the pure principles of the Gospel and the 
morals of our people ; but have we been duly careful to 
prevent its corrupting influence upon our language ? 

Ought we not to discourage every attempt, however 
apparently benevolent, to keep up the use of foreign lan- 
guages in our country ? And ought we not to do all we 
can to make the crowds of emigrants who are flocking to 
our shores thoroughly American, not only in heart, but in 
tongue? Indeed, the former never can be accomplished 
without the latter. They will ever remain foreigners 
among us, and exert an influence more or less adverse 
upon our institutions, if we do not so prize our language, 
as not only to guard it from every admixture, but to be 
zealous for its acquisition by all who come among us. 

We may draw an argument also from Greece and Rome. 

'"A devoted missionary now laboring in Hindostan, begins the biog- 
rapliy of his wife, recently deceased, with an expression of his fears lest 
his English should have become so much affected by his long residence 
among a people of another speech, as to be unpleasant to his readers. 
But if it be so with one thoroughly trained in our literary institutions, 
and sent abroad with all the high attainments and fixed habits of a pro- 
fessional man, how must it be with his children, claiming this as their 
country, and our language as their own, and yet born in a foreign land, 
and from their earliest years in the daily habit of conversing in another 
tongue ? 

Many extraneous terms and phrases — along, indeed, with much valua- 
ble information — must reach us in the correspondence and other writings 
of these, our countrymen, abroad. The tendency of this is, sometimes 
to enrich, but generally to corrupt our language. 



420 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATUKE. 

These nations loved tlieir language. In tlieir schools it 
was the object of tlieir fondest and most persevering atten- 
tion. Many of the very amusements of the Greeks tended 
to enlarge their knowledge of their tongue, and purify 
their literary taste. The assembled nation were the critics 
of their finest writers. It was at the Olympic games that 
Herodotus recited his history, and received the enthusiastic 
admiration of his countrymen.'--- 

And Cicero, in writing to his son, then a student at 
Athens, while he enjoins upon him to prosecute vigorously 
his philosophical pursuits under the renowned Cratippus, and 
to make the best use of all the advantages which that cele- 
brated seat of learning afforded him, urges upon him, with 
peculiar earnestness, to "join Latin with his Greek." The 
prince of Eoman orators did not undervalue the language, 
the literature or the philosophy of Greece ; far from this, 
he ardently admired and diligently studied them, and 
ascribed to them much of his success as a speaker and an 
author ; but he loved his own language more, and would 
have his son also, in whatever else he might excel, become 
a master in this. " Your improvement in Latin,^^ says he, 
"is ivltat I chiefly desire.^^-f 

It is not wonderful, therefore, that these people so refined 
and perfected their speech, and have left us such noble 
monuments in history, poetry and eloquence ; and if we 
would have our own language excel that of Eome in vigor 

''On this occasion, Olorus, •with his son Thiicydides, then a youth of 
fifteen years old, was present. The boy listened to the history of Hero- 
dotus with deep attention, till, unable any longer to suppress his feelings, 
he burst into tears. The historian, noticing his emotion, exclaimed to 
the father, " The heart of thy son is inflamed with the love of learning \" 
How truly the Father of History judged, none need be told. But it should 
not be forgotten that the Greeks were not satisfied with applause ; they 
bestowed, by a popular decree, ten talents upon Herodotus. 

f Cicero De Officiis, Lib. 1, Cap. 1. 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 421 

and varied beauty, and emulate the Greek in fullness, flex- 
ibility and expressiveness, wc must prize it more, and we 
must faithfully study its excellencies and defects, that we 
may labor to remove the one and perfect the other. 

When we have in our halls of education, as they had in 
theirs,'"-' multitudes of eminent and cherished professors of 
our own language and literature ; and when parents with 
enlarged and liberal views of all that is excellent in edu- 
cation, can yet say, with Cicero, that their chief solicitude 
is for the improvement of their sons in their own tongue, 
may we not expect to see our language rapidly advancing 
to a maturity in those powers and graces which merit while 
they insure stability to it ? 

Further, the tendency of the department which we are 
now advocating, would be to 

11. Encourage the more general, tliorougli and practical 
study of the Greek and Roman classics. 

There is, from a variety of causes, in the minds of many 
persons, a prejudice against classical learning, and, conse- 
quently, an indisposition to encourage its pursuit. With 
only one class of these objectors are we now particularly 
concerned. It is those who suppose that proficiency in Latin 

* The study of philology was introduced into Rome from Greece ; hence 
the term " semigraeci " was applied to the first professors. The pursuit 
soon found abundant encouragement. 

Whoever would see a very curious account of these " clari professores/* 
as Suetonius calls the grammatici, or teachers of philology, may consult 
the latter part of his Lives of the Emperors. It seems that their instruc- 
tions were not attended merely by the youth, but by the most distin- 
guished men in the state, with whom also they were on the most intimate 
terms, and in whose palaces they frequently taught. "M. Antonius 
Grippo — docuit primum in Divi Julii domo. Scholam ejus claros quoque 
Tiros frequentasse aiunt ; in his M. Ciceronem, etiam quum praetura 
fungeretur. Quare ab Augusto quoque nepotibus ejus preceptor electus, 
(Verrius Flaccus) transiit in Falatium cum tota schola.'* See also Cicero 
pro Archia. 



4:: 2 ENGLISH language and literature. 

and Greek must be at the expense of English : that to be 
masters of those languages, we must, necessarily, be igno- 
rant of our own. Hence they argue that, as scholarship 
in the vernacular is essential to the business of life, so the 
less the dead languages are meddled with the better. 

But precisely the opposite to this is the truth ; and it is 
only because such persons are so slenderly versed in their 
own tongue, that they have fallen into this mistake. A very 
little research into the history, structure and criticism of 
the English, will make one feel his need of Latin and 
Greek. He will find difficulties besetting his pa,th, and 
clouds resting upon it, which nothing but the faithful study 
of the ancient classics can clear away. 

It is a trite remark, that things are best known by com- 
parison ; and this holds true in nothing more than in the 
case of languages. Hence it may be safely affirmed, that he 
has yet much to learn of his own language, who has never 
compared it with another. A flood of light is shed over 
the English, when viewed side by side with the Greek or 
Latin. We mention these in particular, because, with the 
exception of the Anglo-Saxon, our tongue is most indebted 
to them. 

Again, much of the beauty of our standard poetry is lost 
upon the mere English reader ; and the finest turns of our 
most distinguished orators not unfrequently derive nearly 
their whole force and elegance from their classical allusion. 
Neither Milton nor Burke can be justly appreciated without 
an acquaintance with the literature of Greece and Eome ; 
and the more familiar we are with the latter, with the 
higher relish will we hang over the pages of the great 
English poet and orator. 

It is not merely incident and illustration we derive from 
the store house of classical learning, but many of our most 
forcible phrases and delicate forms of expression, and very 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 423 

much of our beautiful imagery, are borrowed from the same 
rich treasury.* The energy and exquisite elegance of tliese 
will be best seen and felt by one who has traced them from 
the-ir source, and viewed them in those varied lights in 
which they will be presented to such a reader. 

So obviously true are the foregoing remarks, that we 
have never conversed w^ith an individual who had attempted 
to penetrate to the depths of English learning, that was 
not induced to take up the Greek and Latin ; or who did 
n-ot, at least, lament his inability to undertake the study 
of them. Such persons quickly discover, and never fail to 
acknowledge, the immense advantages which a classical 
education must give to its possessor. In this way, then, a 
closer attention to the English language and literature 
can not fail to promote the more general and thorough 
study of those of Greece and Eome. 

But this is not all : such attention to our own tongue will 
make the study of the ancient classics more practical^ also. 
The instructor will lead onward the pupil in Latin and 
Greek, not so much for their sake, as their subserviency to 
the English. He will keep this idea continually before the 
mind of the learner. Hence he will carefully trace the anal- 
ogies between these languages and his own, mark their dif- 
ferences, show wherein we have been indebted to them, and 
how this obligation might be advantageously increased. In 



^'Let those who -would see liow largely our best English poets are 
indebted to the ancients, examine Wharton's edition of Pope, They will 
there see on every page, line after line traced back to the Iliad, Odyssey, 
/Eneid, Pharsalia, etc. 

But has any of our poets ever appropriated Horace's beautiful descrip- 
tion of the echo ? 

" Cujus recinet jocosa 

Nomen imago, (vocis)," 
" The sportive image of a voice." 

Carm. Lib., 1 c, 12. 



424 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITEBATURE. 

a word, the classical teaclicr will strive to improve those 
many opportunities which his course of instruction gives 
him, to advance the pupil in the knowledge of the origin, 
structure, and peculiar excellencies of his own tongue, and 
the means of benefitting it ; and hence, just in proportion 
as the latter attainment is an object of desire with the pre- 
ceptor and pupil, will they be induced to a more 2^^cictical 
study of the Greek and Latin classics. 

III. A department of English Philology, faithfully car- 
ried out, would do much to wij^e off reproach from our 



It is often regretted that there is not a more deep and 
general interest on the subject of a college education ; 
though there is cheering evidence that this interest is 
increasing. We say cheering, for to any one who seriously 
reflects upon the political institutions of our country, it 
must be abundantly manifest, that such education, more 
extensively diffused, is absolutely essential, not merely to 
their prosperity, but to their very stability. 

It becomes, then, a question of the deepest moment to 
the patriotic and the good, whence this indifference ? and 
how may it be removed ? 

Doubtless there are many causes of this want of general 
interest, but only to one will our inquiry be, at present, 
directed. It is because the public so frequently see those 
who have not had the advantao;es of a liberal education — 
mere English scholars — do so much better than many grad- 
uates, that they become careless of a college course. They 
begin to ask what is the use of so many years spent in the 
pursuit of that, which, after all, may leave its possessor in 
the rear of those who have it not? 

But do not these comparatively unfavorable instances of 
college training, clearly show the cause of the popular 
indifference to such training? Had the college student, in 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 425 

every case, paid as mucli attention to what tli.o mass of tlie 
people could appreciate, and what most nearly concerns the 
business and success of life — we mean English education — 
how much brighter might his prospects have been than those 
of the mere English scholar ! We do not find fault with the 
ardor of the collegian in his pursuit of classical literature, 
nor with his industry in the exact sciences ; on the contrary, 
we care not how much he increases in these, provided he 
never lose sight of his indispensable need of a thorough 
acquaintance with his own tongue. We have known such 
graduates rejected when candidates for the situation of a 
common school instructor. Whatever their attainments 
may have been in the classics, mathematics and philosophy, 
it was manifest that they were very deficient in the ordin- 
ary branches of education. To such students might be 
appropriately addressed the language of inspired reproof, 
*' These ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other 
undone.'^ 

We can not but believe, therefore, that a thorough atten- 
tion to our language and literature would do much toward 
wiping off that reproach upon our colleges, which now rests 
on the minds of so many. 

And would not the department for which we are plead- 
ing, do much to 

IV. Improve Common Scliooh^ 

What our common schools must ultimately be, depends, of 
course, upon the people. They have been called into being 
by the people, sustained at every step by the people, and 
will either advance or recede as they are overlooked by the 
people, or enjoy their countenance. 

But while we ascribe the greatest importance to popular 

influence, and would throw the chief responsibility of these 

institutions upon the people, still we believe that there is 

one class of the community whose favor is specially valuable 

36 



426 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

to them. It is the liberally educated. It is to these the 
people naturally look up for direction and encouragement. 
They are justly expected to be the most deeply interested 
and active guardians of schools. Hence, they can do most 
here toward the formation of the popular judgment. It is 
in their power to kindle up a warmer zeal among the peo- 
ple, or, by their indifference, strike a chilling apathy 
through the public heart. 

Such being the value of the influence of the liberally 
educated upon the condition of common schools, it becomes 
an important question whether they are as deeply interested 
and active as they ought to be in this matter. While we 
would not depreciate the exertions of any one class of the 
community in this great work, and are fully persuaded that 
there are, in every neighborhood, among the firmest friends 
of common schools, those who have proceeded from our col- 
leges ; still it must be confessed that the liberally educated 
are, by no means, doing all which they might well do in 
behalf of popular instruction. They must feel a deeper 
interest, and put forth more vigorous efforts, before our 
common schools can grow and prosper to the extent which 
our free institutions most imperatively demand. 

But why do not the liberally educated manifest a deeper 
concern in this matter? Why are they not found more 
numerously at the public examinations of our schools? 
Why do they not visit them more frequently during the 
year to observe their state, watch over their progress, and 
encourage the deserving? And why are not their voices, 
and their pens, and their general influence in society, more 
largely employed in this cause? One great reason, w^e 
believe, is their comparative indifference to the subjects 
taught in these institutions. " It is only an English exam- 
ination V^ they are apt to say, when pressed to attend at the 
close of a school session. 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 427 

And how is this most inadequate and injurious esti- 
mate of Ensdish learninoj to be banished from the minds 
of the liberally educated ? And how are they to be made 
to feel a deeper reverence for their language, and a higher 
sense of the importance of instruction in it? Whatever 
accomplishes these, must also excite in them a warmer 
solicitude in behalf of common schools, and therefore do 
much to improve these most important institutions. 

But would not the establishing of a department of Eng- 
lish language and literature, in our colleges, greatly ele- 
vate this species of scholarship? Graduates would then go 
forth with the lively conviction that the chief object of all 
their attainments in other languages, is to give them a 
perfect mastery over their own. Hence common schools, 
which must ever be exclusively English, and the great 
fountains of popular education, would acquire an import- 
ance in the eyes of the liberally educated, which they have 
never yet possessed. And, therefore, we doubt not but that 
collegiate departments of English Philology would do much 
to improve common schools. 

But again. Such departments would tend to 

V. Advance the cause of knowledge, generally. 

Men die, but knowledge is immortal. Generation after 
generation arise, and toil, and go down to the dust ; while 
the cause of knowledo;e is ever in motion, sometimes ffoins: 
backward, though generally advancing. The men of one 
age observe, collect facts, treasure up their deductions, and 
hand these down to the next ; and thus the precious deposit 
is borne along the tide of time, while its successive propri- 
etors sink beneath the stream. The knowledge which we 
now have is the growth of nearly sixty centuries ; and pre- 
cious, indeed, must it appear in our eyes, if we consider 
the immense price at which it has been purchased — the 



428 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

toil, tlie daring, the sacrifices, the incalculable consumption 
of human life. 

But has there not been much waste in this great work ? 
Might not knowledge have grown much faster, and at far 
less expenditure of labor and suffering? No one who has 
reflected at all upon this subject, but w^ill answer these 
questions in the affirmative. 

Now, one cause of the tardy increase of knowledge has, 
unquestionably, been the inability of individuals to commu- 
nicate their attainments to others. The experience of the 
artisan, and the man of commercial enterprise, the manu- 
facturer, the instructor, and multitudes in other walks of 
life, is continually enlarging their store of facts, and teach- 
ing them new rules and better methods; very much of 
which knowledge perishes wdth them. The truth is, that 
hitherto the men best qualified by their labor and their 
enterprise, to accumulate knowledge, have too generally 
been the least qualified to publish it to the world. How 
much valuable information is thus lost with every practical 
man? 

But w^hy should it be so? Might not even the most 
active and industrious in the community, possess such read- 
iness in the use of language as would enable them, with 
ease and interest, to communicate to the public the results 
of their observation and reflection ? We believe that they 
might, and that whatever is calculated to make the public 
feel the worth of our language and literature, would tend 
just so far to bring about this valuable result. But the 
general establishing of a department of English Philo- 
logy in our colleges, could not fail to give to the study 
of their own language an importance in the eyes of 
the people which it has not heretofore possessed. Eng- 
lish scholarship would thus be far more extensively 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 429 

diffused, and the cause of knowledge generally receive a 
new impulse. 

VI. Such a department would also do much to improve 
the learned professions. 

The learning of the professions, and more particularly 
that of physicians, is contained in systematic works, 
treatises, and periodical puhlications. Knowledge, slowly 
gleaned hy individual observation and experience, is com- 
municated sometimes in treatises, but most commonly in 
monthly or quarterly magazines ; and what lias passed this 
ordeal is gradually gathered into systematic books. Hence, 
their periodical information is always considerably in 
advance of their systematic learning ; and the professional 
man who neglects to read the periodicals of his profession, 
must soon grow rusty, and fall behind the age. 

Were all the periodicals of a profession to be stopped, its 
science must advance very slowly, just as if our knowledge 
of the earth were to enlarge only witli the spread of popu- 
lation and regular settlement. Periodical writers are the 
travelers and navigators of learning, pushing forward in- 
the bold spirit of enterprise, and returning with the fruits 
of their research in the terra incognita of science. 

It is to be lamented, however, that in every age many 
of these valuable discoveries never see the light; they 
remain locked up in the bosom of the observer, and go 
down to darkness with him. The daily engagements of the 
profession can not account for all this loss. Many of the 
most voluminous and valuable authors, as, for example, 
Jeremy Taylor, Andrew Fuller, John Mason Good, and 
Lord Bacon, were all eminently laborious men in their 
several callings. 

But is not the source of the evil here ? Professional 
men, too generally, have hitherto, in the course of their 



430 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

scholastic education, paid comparatively little attention to 
their own language and literature ; and even what little 
they have thus gained, has, to a great extent, slipped from 
them during the ardor of subsequent professional studies 
and pursuits. Hence, as they increased in valuable expe- 
rience and scientific attainments, their ability to communi- 
cate these to others has diminished, till, at last, the labor 
of composition becomes so great, from the want of practice, 
that they are deterred from the attempt. In this way, 
doubtless, much that is of priceless worth, and has been 
laboriously gained, is daily lost to the learned professions. 
Each of these might have been far in advance of their 
present position, had all, or a larger part of their ranks 
possessed but a moderate ability to communicate their 
acquirements with ease and interest.* When it is too late, 
at least in their estimation, to remedy this difficulty, they 
either become careless about it, or w^aste their time in 



*''It is well known that, in many universities, a large proportion of the 
medical graduates do not write their own inaugural dissertations. They 
are compelled, sometimes from indolence, generally from sheer inability, 
to purchase them from some needy, but more capable fellow student, or 
member of the profession. The celebrated Dr. John Brown, author of the 
Brunonian system of medicine, is reported to have been largely engaged 
in this literary labor. 

It is equally a notorious fact that sermons are bought and sold for the 
pulpit in the established Church of England. Manuscripts are offered 
for purchase through the public papers, with the recommendation of 
having never been preached.! To so great an extent has this trade been 
carried on, that fac similes of manuscripts can alone supply the demand. 
I have seen a goodly octavo of bought discourses, written by Dr. Johnson, 
the lexicographer, for the use of Dr. John Taylor, Prebendary of West- 
minster ; and, after his decease, published in his name by his executoj ; 
but so published as to let the reader discover who was the real author. 

This evil is not, however, confined to the Anglican establishment. 
Dugald Stewart attempts a vindication of his friend and preceptor. Dr. 
Reid, for resorting to the same practice on the other side of the Tweed. 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITEKATURE. 431 

fruitless regrets. Many, however, we are persuaded, miglit, 
by suitable efforts, make up for early neglect.* 

But liow manifest is it that this evil must remain so 
long as English learning is thought so little of, and so 
superficially cultivated in our educational institutions ? 
And what would more effectually tend to remove this false 
sentiment, and by doing so, contribute more to improve the 
learned professions, than the establishing of a department 
for the cultivation of Eno;lish lano'ua2:e and literature in 
all our colleges ? 

Again, would not such a department powerfully tend to 

VII. Preveyit many controversies and bring to a more 
speedi/ and satisfactory issue those which are inevitable? 

We say inevitable, because so long as there is evil in 
man, that which is true and good will be assailed, and 
what is false and wrong will be maintained. But moral 
agents, that is, beings who act in accordance with principles, 
must be just what their principles are. "A good tree can 

'■•'In some instances, such persons are, doubtless, prevented from making 
the attempt to improve themselves from not knowing how to begin, and 
what course to pursue. To these we would say, procure the grammar, 
exercises and key of Murray. Begin with the second ; carefully read the 
first rule to which it refers in the grammar, then write the examples 
given in the exercises as nearly according to the rule as you can ; and 
when you have finished the lesson, correct it by the key, carefully noticing 
your errors, and the reasons for the change which the key requires you 
to make. 

By a faithful perseverance in this method, for an hour or two each day, 
you can get through the volumes in about three months. 

Afterward take up Blair's Lectures on Belle's Lettres, or Campbell's 
Philosophy of Rhetoric, or Kame's Elements of Criticism, or, if possible, 
all of these works. Read them thoroughly ; they also Avill require about 
the same time to be devoted to them. 

The above course of study, if faithfully pursued, combined with fre- 
quent practice in writing upon different subjects, can scarcely fail to 
render composition quite easy to you, and give you a correct, good Eng- 
lish style. 



4S2 ENaLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

not bring forth evil fruit ; neither can a corrupt tree bring 
forth good fruit/^ (Matt., vii., 18). Hence truth, here, 
must ever he to us worth just as much as our character and 
happiness are worth. The value of truth is manifest ; he 
who does not feel it is half lost already/. Hence controversy 
on moral and religious subjects is inevitable. The truth 
must be defended. To be indifferent in this cause is to be 
a traitor against the God of truth, and an enemy to the 
best interests of men. But 

''All truth is precious, thougli not all divine." 
Truth in matters of human learning and science must 
be always of great value, and should be carefully sought 
after, and conscientiously maintained. But this will cer- 
tainly produce more or less controversy, partly from the 
perverseness of man, and partly from the limited nature 
of our faculties. This, however, should not discourage us. 
Truth rarely suffers by discussion. The fire only separates 
the dross, and the precious metal comes forth bright and 
pure, and the more valued too for the trouble it has cost 
us. Learning and science have slowly fought their way up 
to their present eminence. We are not, therefore, of the 
number of those who deprecate all controversy. Truth 
first, and then peace, is the maxim of every really honest 
man — all who love the liglit. 

Still it requires but a slight glance at the progress of 
human knowledge, to discover that a vast deal of contro- 
versy which has attended it, is worse than needless. It 
has, to say the least, uselessly occupied the minds of men, 
and retarded the advance of truth. It is not proper, here, 
neither do we purpose to examine into the various causes 
which have occasioned or prolonged these unnecessary con- 
troversies. With only one of them are we concerned just 
now — it is the incorrect and indefinite use of language. 
A vast deal of controversy has certainly arisen from this 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATUKE. 433 

source, and few have not been needlessly spun out from 
the same cause. Men have written volumes and spent 
years, and whole communities have been agitated by dis- 
putes about mere words. They verily believed that their 
difference was real, when in truth it was only apparent, 
and that, because seen through the mists of incorrect and 
ill chosen terms. A competent knowledge of language, 
and a definite use of it, might have prevented a world of 
such logomachy. 

We maintain, therefore, that the general establishing 
of that collegiate department which we are now advocat- 
ing, would, by promoting throughout the community a 
more thorough acquaintance with our language, and skill 
in using it, do much toward preventing controversy, and 
bringing to a more speedy and satisfactory issue that which 
is unavoidable. 

Again, we are confident that 

VIII. It would save many valuable lives. 

We have heard it remarked of one of the most volu- 
minous and popular authors of this country, that when in 
college, he was in the habit of filling with original com- 
position one quire of paper weekly, as a voluntary exercise. 
He has now passed far beyond the usual bounds of life, and 
yet it would seem that his capacity is quite as vigorous as 
ever. Doubtless this prolonged existence, and power of 
authorship, are to be ascribed, in no small degree, to that 
facility of composition which early application gave to 
him. 

It is a fact, that many professional men, and especially 
ministers, fall a sacrifice to the labor of writing. And 
where life is not destroyed, the health is often so much 
impaired, that the poor invalid drags out his days, a burthen 
to J^imself and of little use to the community. 

' The Eev. Dr. C was my fellow student, and well 

87 



434 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITEKATURE. 

do I remember his early kindness. I was his junior, and 
room-mate, and never asked I his good offices in vain. 
They were always given with an ability, and a cheerful- 
ness too, which were sure to bring me back to him in time 
of need. We parted, he in the vigor and bloom of early 
manhood, to enter upon a theological course, I to engage 
in medical studies. A few years after found us both in 
the field of professional exertion, though widely separated. 
Hearing of his being on a visit in the city — New York, 
then the place of my residence — I called upon him, and 
alas ! what a change ? The healthful glow was gone from 
his cheek, and his uncommon muscular energy had given 
place to a general relaxation of fiber. " My constitution," 
said he, *' has received a stab from which it can never 
recover ! " Upon closer inquiry, I discovered that the toil 
of writing for the pulpit, had worn him out. He dragged 
through a few years more of infirmity, and sank into the 
grave just in the meridian of life. Now, had composition 
not been a toil to my friend, he might, at this moment, 
have been in the midst of his days and usefulness. Would 
that this case were a singular one ! It may stand for 
thousands. And except ihe loss of the soul, or the loss of 
character, I know not a more melancholy sight, in this 
world of disappointment and sorrow, than the spectacle of 
a young professional man, full of promise and bright hopes, 
thus cut off. What a wreck of time, and money, and 
learning, and talents, and usefulness ! Besides the agony 
of bereaved friends, many, perhaps, entirely dependent 
upon the victim of toil, it is too costly a sacrifice to the 
public. 

But such deplorable cases will be continually occurring, 
and in frightfully increasing numbers, unless the written 
use of our language, which is now so generally a most 
exhausting labor, is rendered comparatively an easy and a 



ENGLISH LANaUAGE AND LITERATURE. 435 

pleasant exercise. And nothing, we are persuaded, would 
do more to bring about this desirable result, than the estab- 
lishing, in all our colleges, of that department for which 
we are now pleading. 

Further, such a department could not but 

IX. Push fonvard the triumphs of literature and moral 
science. 

The importance of language is not always duly estimated. 
It is usually considered merely as a medium of communi- 
cating ideas. Hence the contempt which illiterate persons 
sometimes cast upon the study of other languages than 
their own, as though the acquisition were of no other use 
than to enable its possessor to call the same things by 
different names — the mere learning of words. 

But in truth, language is more than a medium of com- 
municating thought — it is an instrument of thought. Who- 
ever would see this subject very acutely investigated, and 
fully unfolded, may look into Campbell's Philosophy of 
Rhetoric, Hume's Treatise of Human Nature, and the first 
volume of Dugald Stewart's Philosophy of the Human 
Mind. The latter distinguished author has shown also by 
a long and interesting extract from a work of Leibnitz, 
that the use of words as an instrument of thought, did not 
escape this early and very profound writer. 

But if language is not only a medium of communication, 
but to a great extent the instrument of thinking, how 
much the advance of literature and moral science must 
depend upon the perfection of language. What would 
avail the highest mechanical genius, or the rarest talent 
in the fine arts, if compelled to work with scanty and 
clumsy tools ? So a meagre dialect really cripples thought. 
But he who possesses a copious, flexible, and expressive 
language, will have vastly the advantage over others less 
favored in this respect, though of equal intellectual powers. 



436 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

A Scythian could not have written the Iliad, nor an Esqui- 
maux the Paradise Lost, and yet these barbarous hordes 
may have had many a Homer and a Milton. 

Who that has hung with exquisite gratification over the 
pages of the Natural History of Enthusiasm, and the sub- 
sequent works from the same pen, has not often asked 
himself, what constitutes the power of this admirable 
author ? It is his rare mastery of language. This is the 
wizard's wand which enables him to call up " spirits from 
the vasty deep," and bring down visitants from on high, 
and body forth forms most fleeting and evanescent. We 
are often conscious, in reading him, of having had the same 
thoughts, but they were so shadowy and subtil that we 
could not grasp them ; and we despaired of ever getting a 
more distinct view of them, till we saw them on his pages, 
delineated with a strength and vividness of coloring which 
instructed while they astonished and delighted us. 

Words being then an instrument of thought, as well as 
the medium of communication, it becomes an inquiry doubly 
important — has our language been perfected ? We have 
no hesitation in answering this question in the negative. 
That it is not perfect, every one, and especially every 
diligent student, has an evidence in the fact that many 
ideas, and relations and combinations of ideas, and shades 
of differences between them, arise and pass through his 
mind, which he can very imperfectly express, and often 
can not express at all. 

And, further, a language is not perfect unless it has a 
term for every object which exists about us. Bat modern 
science and research have so extended the boundaries of 
knowledge, that there is a vast space totally unoccupied 
by the English tongue. Learned men have here brought 
in the Latin and Greek to their aid. To take these lan- 
o-uages from them, would now be to rob the world of their 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 437 

learning. Very many of these foreign terms, we suppose, 
will be gradually naturalized ; and, instead of many others, 
words of English origin will, in time, come into use. 
When this is the case, and when we have a richer nomen- 
clature of Intellectual Philosophy, how wide a field will be 
open before the votary of literature and moral science ! 
The poet will have a broader and loftier range from which 
to draw his imagery ; and new views and illustrations will 
crowd, from every side, upon the man of moral science. 
And hence we may hope, not to see, in intellect, a greater 
Butler, or a greater Milton, but philosophers and poets so 
favored in point of language, as to be capable of hights 
and depths which the world has never yet contemplated.* 

*-' The ancient poet had comparatively a narrow range. The visible 
heavens and the surface of the earth, or rather but a part of these, was 
open to liira — all else was wild and dim imagining. 

But in these days, the natural sciences have spread before the eye of 
genius new fields, rich in every variety of illustration and of beauty ; 
and modern astronomy has thrown open other worlds, and an expanse in 
which the loftiest imagination will ever find free scope. 

May we not, therefore, well doubt the correctness of the opinion, that 
poetry belongs to the first ages — that we may never hope to see successful 
rivals of Homer and Yirgil? jMilton, indeed, modestly thought himself 
too late in the world ; but though in genius he may not have been superior 
to his great predecessors, yet has not Paradise Lost placed him in a more 
exalted niche ? They are ever striving to elevate their themes ; he to rise 
to the dignity of his. They evidently toil to burst through their narrow 
enclosures ; he labors to improve his vast advantages ; and has not the 
result been a greater work than the Iliad, or the .^neid ? Doubtless the 
English Bard was unspeakably indebted to revelation, but he owed much 
also to a better language, and the general advance of knowledge. 

And certainly the progress of the world in experience, and information 
of evei'y kind, is eminently favorable to the growth of moral and poli- 
tical science. Who Avould think of comparing Locke and Edwards with 
the sages of Greece ? or Paley with Epictetus ? Political economy is 
altogether a modern science ; the ancients had scarcely the elements of it. 
Adam Smith could not be translated into classical Latin or Greek. There 
are no terms in these languages with which to clothe many of the ideas of the 
modem philowpher. _ 



438 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

But such improvements in language can never be tlie 
work of a few. Small communities may form a dialect, 
or the technics of some science or pursuit ; but these are 
barbarisms to the multitude. It must be common use 
which makes a language. If, then, we would greatly 
improve the English tongue, we must promote the general 
study of it. And whatever does this, as the establishment 
of Professorships of English Philology in all our colleges 
certainly will, can not but push forward the triumphs of 
literature and moral science, which must ever depend so 
largely upon the perfection of language. 

Once more, will not such departments do much to 

X. Advance the cause of genuine Christianity ? 

It is significantly asked by an inspired writer, '* how 
shall they believe in him of v/hom they have not heard ? 
and how shall they hear without a preacher '? ^^ But what 
if the preacher knows little of the language in which he 
is to preach, and his hearers still less ? Will the first be 
as capable of edifying, and the last of being edified, as 
both might become with better instruction ? 

If there is any one subject which especially belongs to 
the inner man, it is religion. The new views which it 
opens to the soul, and the new and deep emotions which it 
stirs up within, demand a language peculiarly copious and 
expressive. And after all, there are unutterable things in 
religion — things which no tongue has yet enabled the full 
heart to breathe out. 

But there have been some, as Leighton and Howe, who 
by their rare skill in language, could trace, far in, the 
workings of the soul, and lay open its secret treasures ; 
and thus have they rendered their writings a rich store- 
house to all of every age who could enter into them and 
partake of thfir fullness. Men of greater minds, and more 
heavenly piety we may never see ; but surely it is not 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 439 

unreasonable to expect that a better language would give 
us better authors. As men of God, it might be presump- 
tuous to claim the precedence of them, but as divines^ ought 
not many noio to be greater ? As our language improves 
in fullness and precision, ought not our religious authorship 
to advance in every excellence ? 

But there is another view of this subject which ought not 
to be overlooked. 

It is often complained, and that justly too, that minis- 
ters preach ahove the people ; but is it not equally a lawful 
subject of reproof, that the people are too frequently helow 
their ministers? If ministers should study to express 
themselves as plainly as possible, the people should also 
study to understand as well as possible. These are correla- 
tive duties, and if either be neglected, the cause of religion 
must suffer. 

It is undoubtedly true, that an intelligent people, other 
circumstances being equal, are most likely to profit under 
the preaching of the gospel. But as very many of the 
people have hitherto been but indifferently instructed .in 
their tongue, and as on this account they might receive 
comparatively little benefit from a thoroughly educated 
ministry, so a merciful Providence has raised up for them 
an humbler order of preachers — not, indeed, illiteratey 
though unlearned men. But while we rejoice in this 
gracious dispensation, and bless God for his condescension 
to the infirmities of our fellow men, ought we not to 
remove the occasion for it, so far as wise effort on our part 
can accomplish this ? Ought we not to seek the elevation 
of the preacher and the people, that both may be better 
prepared to discharge with profit their mutual duties ? 
Whatever does this, will certainly tend to advance the 
triumphs of the Gospel. *' The preacher ^' will not in vain 



440 ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

*' seek to find out acceptable words — even the words of the 
wise," if the people are prepared to understand thera/^ 

We may not expect, indeed, by any instruction, to 
acquire that wonderful expressiveness of language which 
BO often surprises and delights the pious reader of the 
sacred volume in the original, and which seems even to 
have lifted up the style of our translators above the ordi- 
nary style of their age. But is it not our duty to strive, 
under heaven's blessings, by the ordinary means of study 
and diligence, to come as near as we can to the perfect 
work of those who were favored with extraordinary influ- 
ence ? Eeligious writers, who keep this high and holy end 
in view, will not labor in vain ; and a people duly instructed 
will not fail to profit by such endeavors. 

We believe, then, that collegiate departments of Eng- 
lish Philology, by the powerful impulse which they will 



** Ho"W mueli religious instruction, and, consequently, the success of 
Christianity, depend upon the perfection of language, will be best seen 
if vre turn our attention from our own tongue, to the defects of which 
our very familiarity has biindtd us, and consider the case of the heathens, 
who in every respect fall vastly short of evangelized nations. 

To learn the language of a heathen people is by no means the only 
or the most arduous of the missionary's toils. His great difficulty is to 
express to them, in their meager tongue, the new facts and truths which 
Christianity brings to view. To do this, requires much skillful and 
laborious effort, sometimes, to accommodate the words of the heathen 
dialect to his subject, at others, to form them into unusual combinations ; 
and often he is compelled to introduce terms from his own or the ancient 
languages. 

The tendency of these missionary efforts is, doubtless, much to improve 
and fix the tongue for which they are made — just as the somewhat similar 
labors of our own Bible translators benefitted the English language. 
But as the latter has confessedly advanced since the days of King James, 
80 we believe that it is susceptible of still further improvement, and that 
every such improvement can and will be made to subserve the cause 
of Christianity. 



ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 441 

give to the universal study and improvement of our 
language, can not but greatly benefit the cause of true 
Christianity. 

In conclusion, we would observe that the difficulty of 
filling the chair proposed, will be obvious to all who consider 
the various branches of learning in which the incumbent 
must be well versed to fit him for his duties. 

His professorship will bear the same relation to the 
other departments in the Faculty of Arts, that the chair of 
the Theory and Practice does to the other chairs in a Medical 
College. Anatomy, both healthy and morbid. Physiology, 
Chemistry, and every other branch of knowledge which is 
necessary to constitute the well educated physician, all are 
subservient to the Theory and Practice of Medicine. He 
who would teach the latter with credit to himself, and 
advantage to his pupils, must have mastered all the other 
branches, as the knowledge of these is more or less involved 
in every step of his course. Hence his must ever be the 
crowning chair of the institution. 

So also is it with the Professor of English Philology. 
It will be necessary for him not only to have faithfully gone 
through the usual course of college studies, but to have 
much farther extended his acquaintance with the ancient 
classics, and to have studied with great care the chief 
authors in our own literature, both prose and poetical, from 
Geoff'ry Chaucer down to his own times, with the principal 
critical works upon them, from Quintilian to the modern 
Qaintilian, Dr. Campbell, of Aberdeen. 

Indeed, there is no branch of learning which he may not 
render tributary to his instructions. Nothing would seem, 
at first sight, farther removed from the subject of philology 
than mathematics, and yet no intelligent reader of the 
works of that most accomplished writer, Dugald Stewart, 
can help but be struck with the fact that manv of his most 



442 ENGLISH liANGUAGE AND LITERATURE. 

clear and admirable illustrations are drawn from the mathe- 
matics. Had he not been quite familiar with the language 
of the latter, he would oftentimes have been at a loss for 
words to express himself in discussing the phenomena and 
laws of the mind. His extensive learning, also, in the 
whole field of moral science, his acquaintance with the 
principal authors in the natural sciences, and especially his 
familiarity with our ov/n great poets, have all furnished 
this able author with a rich treasury, not only of appro- 
priate facts, bat beautiful imagery, and most impressive 
illustrations. None but a very ripe scholar can fully appre- 
ciate the style of Dugald Stewart, and the instructor who 
would conduct others up to the same eminence must emulate 
his acquisitions. But it is the business of the Professor of 
of English Philology to do this. 

Let him, then, make every department of learning 
tributary to his chair. And, thus, while he is leading his 
pupils on to that mastery of English, v/hich alone can 
enable them most skillfully to communicate their know- 
ledge to others, they can not help but discover, in the 
ability of their instructor, and in their own growing pro- 
ficiency, what ought always to be one most important end 
of the study of the ancient classics, and indeed of every 
branch embraced in a college course. 

Let it only be generally seen how indispensable are the 
different parts of a liberal education, and especially the 
Latin and Greek classics, to thorough" attainments in 'Eng- 
lish, and to the further improvement of our noble lan- 
guage, and all these studies would not only be more faith- 
fully prosecuted, but they would be far more extensively 
sought after. Multitudes would then come up to our 
colleges, who now suppose that the greater part of the 
education there acquired is of little or no practical value. 



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